Rules Reset
by sweetprincipale
Summary: Sequel to I Like to Win. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a game he proposed, inspired by a night of shared grief. He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back, offering Spike a chance to show that he can make her happy, and bring her back to life.
1. Chapter 1

Rules Reset

By Sweetprincipale

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: The beginning of this chapter is taken from the end of _I Like to Win_, so it should seem familiar if you've already read that. Just skim. _

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius 120, DLilith21, Neon Raver, Lakitalover, rebcake, nipponophile, NausicA, omslagpapper, cavementftw, teddybear-514, Illusera, omslagspapper, Teddybear-514, sbyamibakura, and Illusera._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part I**

_(From Part IV of I Like to Win)_

It wasn't just about the alcohol. It was about the game. The _life_. "But I don't want to win. For once, I don't want to." She admitted in a choked voice.

He wanted to comfort her in the worst way. But unlike a lot of the blokes she'd been dealing with in her life, he listened. He heard all the grief in all she said, and made sense of what things she'd left out, as well. She was alone. She was scared. She could only see the bad in her life right now, and like a trained warrior, she was hardening herself more and more. She wanted to be loved and she wanted to be happy- and she was afraid of being both those things. Understandable to be scared, really, knowing all she'd lost and had stolen, afraid to love and feel joy when it seemed to bring harm eventually.

_But she was never afraid of a challenge. And I'm dead clever, if you'll pardon the pun_.

Buffy watched Spike's face change. First there was the soft, sympathetic look that both annoyed her and made her feel her heartstrings pull, even though she thought she'd cut them off or bound them up too tightly to ever be moved again. Then a faint trace of his smirk was there, modified to a lopsided grin, barely twitching the corners of his lips.

"Alright then." He reached for the bottle with one hand and and took it from her. He put it gently back on the ground, but not between them this time. He didn't want anything between them, and if he had to do it symbolically for now- well, he'd take what he could get. His remaining hand hovered over her empty ones. "How about this? You come back around for another game some time." He let his hand fall, just letting his fingers ghost over her skin, barely making contact. Like them. Only a dream touch.

Buffy stared at the fingers she could see on her skin, but honestly had trouble feeling. The perfect summation of her life. Trouble feeling.

"W-what kind of game?" She asked uncertainly. She didn't know what else to say. Spike's ever-present attitude of smart-ass wisdom was like catnip to the roving cat inside her, that primal hunting side always looking for something to chase. If he offered a challenge- she never walked away from it. Maybe because secretly she liked being challenged by someone who respected her as both an adversary and a- sort of friend. _ What am I doing? What's he going to get me into now?_

"It's a new game. An' no one's ever played it with you before."

Buffy considered pushing herself a little farther away. No matter what Spike said, she couldn't help equating it with innuendo. Didn't help when she'd seen first hand what he wanted her for. "You didn't by any chance play this with your little robo-bunny, did you?"

"_No_." He exhaled patiently, despite not needing to breathe. "I'm sorry about that, an' yeah, you made it clear you hate that I did it. Let's drop it back on the unlucky in love pile of woe, shall we? Knew I'd never have you. Tried to make something to dull the pain. You were never s'posed to find out about her, okay?"

"Not exactly okay. But not getting you staked." Buffy conceded.

His hand tightened slightly on hers. "You oughta know what it's like, Luv."

She scoffed as best she could given the fact that she wasn't really up to it after riding an emotional roller coaster without a break for weeks, months, maybe years. "Me? Why? I have never, ever built myself a mechanical playmate."

"Angelus." Spike locked his hand down on hers because he knew she'd get up in arms. She did. Head whipped up and her eyes all but flayed him.

"I _hated_ him." Her lips quivered with rage.

"I know that. But he looked like Angel, didn't he? Had some little part inside that you wanted to believe was still your version? You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't hurt him until it was the very last second of the eleventh hour."

Buffy swallowed the angry denial she had forming. Everything he said was true, and any denial she made would be nothing but a lie. "So?"

"I knew she was plastic, I knew she was copied, not the genuine article. I knew whenever she said she loved me that it was just a bloody program. But she looked like you. There was somethin' about her that was close enough to the real thing to keep me from puttin' her away. An', as you mentioned regardin' my lovely visit with the bitch goddess, my cheap imitation got me hurt. Lesson learned."

"Yeah. Well. At least she only hurt you. Angelus hurt everyone." She whispered, closing her eyes to block out a flood of memories.

"Sadistic bastard."

"Tell me about it."

"Rather not. Except to say he'd have given her high an' mightiness some competition."

They shared a shiver, and the rueful smile that came after it. "So tell me. About this new game that I've never played."

"You'll love it. It's called 'How Can I Make it Better?'." Spike explained. "Same rules, almost. One drink, two fierce competitors," their smiles broadened, "except whoever makes the other player happiest wins the shot."

Buffy blushed and pulled away a little. Spike and happy didn't go together. And Spike and "happy", as in the giving of, definitely didn't belong anywhere, not in dreams, not in real life. "I'm not very good at that game and I-"

Spike's grip caught her escaping fingers once more. "You don't have to be good at this one. You can let me be the champ. I know it'll about do you in." His eyes locked with hers. _Let someone try to save you, Luv. Let someone try before there's nothin' left to save. You can have the worst life ever, if that's how you wanna look at it. But let someone try to give you a few happy moments before it all ends._

"Try to make you happy? Spike, I would suck at that game." She chuckled nervously, eyes trying to dodge from his.

He didn't let them. "Then that means I'll just have to make _you_ the happier one. On every single round." Her eyes flickered back up to his, tiny grains of hope still left inside jaded prisons. "After all, Buffy, I like to win, too."

* * *

_Several weeks later..._

They never got to play. He never got to win, never even got to try. She was gone. Both of them, all of them, somehow victorious, but beaten. Game over.

* * *

_Several months later..._

He patrolled. Then he came back to the house, even if they didn't need him to half the time. No one stopped him. Not the girls certainly, and most surprisingly, not even the carpenter and his bad attitude. He was honored, humbled even, that they placed the job of guarding her in his hands, once again, even though logic oughta tell them that was a mistake. But he didn't object, he wanted to help, more than he could ever tell them. Tell anyone but her, and one no longer able to hear him.

She trusted him. She told him. She told him it was what her sister would have wanted, that she wanted it, too. Between them, they decided not to worry about the rest. The others wouldn't mind, didn't mind, because they appreciated who he was there to see, someone who they would withhold nothing from, but someone they didn't know how to help, too lost in their own grief to be effective.

Every night he walked with Dawn. Then they sat and played cards. Watched movies. They talked. Mainly talked. He asked questions. Dawn answered him.

She did it because no one else could bear to talk about the missing member of the family, the heart of the house, they seemed to be huddling together, the four of them, always out somewhere or researching something. Not him. He could talk about her or listen to memories about her with the stamina of a long-distance runner.

He did it because he was silently going over all the regrets. The game they never played. The game they should have played.

_All the ways I could've made her happy. That I never got to try._ He did it because every night he saved her. Every night, between kissing the pale, teenaged brow, the sweet embodiment of what she'd left behind, and kissing the letters carved in stone, he played the horrible scenes in his head. The "what should have happened", the "what didn't happen", and how it was all his fault. And knowing Buffy wished she could love him back, a secret she'd nearly taken to the grave- that made it worse.

Then, each day, laying low in the darkness, he played another round of "what should have happened" after he's survived his other new amusement. A game to be saved for after daylight struck, and he'd played the round of Russian roulette he so often played- walking slowly, slowly home from his watch over Dawn or his patrol with the Scoobies, seeing if today he'd finally be slow enough, or the sun quick enough- to catch him and send him into hell. The less painful kind, where all they did was rip you to shreds, instead of reminding you every second the world had lost its most precious treasure, all because of you.

After that, he returned to the "what _should_ have happened"s, the game he was meant to play, the one where he made her happy, where he won, out of the sheer bloody overload of making her smile and laugh and wipe the sadness from her eyes.

He stored all those carefully harvested pieces of information Dawn spilled so freely, all the little intuitions and observations he's made himself- and he played the game every day, whiling away the hours with dreams of her smiles- driving the knife in deeper. Because he deserved it, didn't he?

Every night he saved her.

Every day he played the game he should have played, and won what should have been the simplest and sweetest victory.

He made her happy.

But it was too late now. He'd never play it. He'd never see her smile, at him, for him, or even just in passing.

He'd lost his chance to play.

* * *

_No. No, no, not again._ Give him one little task- okay, bloody enormous task, and guard the girl. He failed once. He wouldn't fail again. But not his fault the streets were mad and full of brawling demons and the town was finally starting to look like an actual Hellmouth. The only thing that'd ever held it off was - _Don't do this to yourself now, not just now. You lost one. Don't lose the other._

He tracked her back to the house, at least he hoped that was what he was doing, but the air was thick with smoke and fear and the stink of Hellions, and Dawn's scent was already all over the areas he was covering. But at least the baddies were gone. For now. He just had to focus on finding her, not on the constant chanting fear and the numbing dread, the voice that was taunting in his head, "It's happening again, it's happening again..."

Fist flat to the door he swung it wide, calling in a furious voice, partly anger at himself for losing track of the girl, partly fury at her for getting out of his sight, and a large chunk of rage being used to mask the fear that wanted to come through.

"Dawn! _Dawn!_ Are you there?"

There was a second's pause. "I'm here!" Her voice came down from upstairs.

"Oh, thank God." He sighed to himself put a hand to his heart, even though it didn't beat, he could swear he felt it relax. He slammed the door shut in the same way he had slammed it open, now the fear gone, replaced with that exasperated, exhausted anger. Now his voice was steadier, and louder, as he called up the stairs at his wayward charge. "Thank God! You scared me half to death ... or more to death. You - I could _kill _you."

Dawn appeared, walking slowly, a strange, flat look on her face. A look that wasn't actually flat, more like a suppressed look of excitement carefully tamped down. "Spike." She said quietly.

But he wouldn't be stopped. Relief made him vent, the heart that had lodged in his throat now back in place, letting out the threats that he meant, absolutely meant. Funny how he could love the girl like a sister, maybe even a daughter- though he didn't really know what that felt like, he'd never had the feeling before, only knew it was precious and the thought of losing it, after losing everything else- it gutted him. "I mean it. I could rip your head off one-handed and drink from your brain stem." He gestured graphically, almost spitting at then end, deep blue eyes raking her angrily.

That might have made her snark, or apologize, even on rare occasions hug him. Yes. Hug. The bad man and the not-good girl secretly offered each other the infrequent display of affection. This time she was simply silent, looking up at him.

His face changed, shifted, melted down to quietly quizzical. "What?"

"Look."

It was there. The monstrosity he'd commissioned, cleaned and put back together. He hated to look at it, hated that they let it "charge" on Buffy's bed, some more mockery, the imitation in a place that should be a living shrine. And it was just another stab to his heart. He deserved it. He brought it to life in the first place, and now it mocked her death, a reminder of the friend he was finally making, a love he knew she might've wanted to return, was so scared to try to return. Another reminder of the game they'd never play, reminder of the miserable one they had played after Joyce's death.

" Yeah? I've seen the bloody bot before. Didn't think she'd patch up so-"

Only the robot could never look like that. Haunted. So beautifully tragic.

Then he heard it. Wondered how he could have missed it. The faint, steady thumping. Two of them, not one. Smelled it. The scent of her.

Well, no wonder he missed it. He heard her heart like a soundtrack in his head, he smelled that simple human perfume like it was part of the air around him.

His jaw paused, half open, and he stared. Her eyes met his. He knew. _Oh bloody, beautiful, non-hell, oh miracles... _

_ She's looking at me. _

And she kept doing it, all the way down the stairs.

No one needed to speak to explain this moment to him, but there was Dawn, he could hear her in the background, like someone speaking in the next room instead of practically against his ear.

"She's kind of- um ... She's been through a lot. With the... the death. But I think she's okay."

_Death._ Horrible word. He hadn't thought so before it happened, but now he hated it with a passion. Hated how it jarred her when Dawn spoke it, how it made those green eyes slide hastily away like a frightened shadow, She looked down, grabbing at her shirt, too big for her now, buttoning it up clumsily.

Dawn was torn between her sister, and the man she was starting to treat as a brother, or at least as a close friend, a person who treated her like an adult, not like some cute little girl. She bit her lip in silence for a second, eyes trailing agonizedly from the downcast face of Buffy, to the awestruck face of the vampire. "Spike? Are _you_ okay?"

_Okay? _Okay?_ Do you know what this means, what this is? "Okay" has no part in this at all._

His voice was soft and slightly halting as he spoke to Dawn, but had eyes only for the vision before him. "I'm ..." He couldn't explain what he was. "What did you do?"

The teen squawked quickly, almost nervously, "Me? Nothing."

She was in front of him now, just staring up at him, something lost in those eyes, something scared inside, clutching the now buttoned shirt like a shield.

_Oh, Precious, don't be scared. Not of me. Of course she's scared, she was dead, now she's alive, remember how you felt? Everything new and impossible and - who knows how they did this to her? Who knows what she is exactly, what parts of her are back an' runnin', what parts are still filterin' in?_ He wanted to pull her close and whisk her away, both of them, someplace safe and silent and let them sit and sort it all out. But it would never happen. Buffy and Dawn weren't "his". His job had been, should always have been, to keep them safe. It'd be the job he would try his damnedest to succeed at, even though he'd failed so horribly before. _Tend to the practical first, metaphysical second._

"Her hands."

Buffy dropped her hands almost guiltily and hid them behind her back, looking very uncomfortable.

_Pillock. Couldn't have lead up to that? No "How nice to see you", no "I never stopped missing you", no "It'll be alright"? Smooth, William. Pillock._

Dawn interrupted his internal bashing. "Um. I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that."

The bluntness was still there in his voice. He supposed it had come naturally, being the strong one for Dawn lately. That and hating himself. "I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how." He tried to modulate the tone when he spoke to her, unable to believe he was_ actually _speaking to her, in the flesh, not at her graveside, not in his constant dreams. "Isn't that right?"

She answered, a quiet, dull voice. "Yeah. That's ... what I had to do."

"Done it myself." He smiled a half smile and slowly reached for her wrists, not the injured hands themselves. "Hrm. We'll take care of you. Come here."

Oh, Sweet God, it was real. She let him gently rest his arm across her back to guide her to the living room. She moved like a sleepwalker treading in heavy sand, but it was her form, her _living_ form, the heat, the texture- it was real, and it amazed him that he had ever tried to fool himself into thinking a machine could emulate this.

"Bit, get some of the first aid stuff, mercurochrome, bandages." He looked to Dawn over his shoulder. She was staring at him, waiting for the same kind of guidance he was giving Buffy, although verbal, not physical.

"Okay." She moved eagerly, relieved to have someone else there to lean on when this situation was clearly out of her depth. She'd made a fine start, but the feelings Spike felt rivaled hers in the longing, the hope, the guilt. They both blamed themselves for her death. Now she was back. It was beautiful. It was terrifying. What if someone decided to take her away again? Why was she here in the first place?

Spike followed the elder sister to the couch, and as she sat down, all closed over, tight arms to her sides, tight legs closed. He sat down opposite of her on the edge of the coffee table. Opposite to her body language as well, loose arms, open shoulders and chest, reaching forward like he was going to close his hands around sunlight in flesh form.

He tried to keep his face even as their skin met. He took her her hands in his and looked at them. His head was bowed in concentration as he took stock of the wounds, and then raised to reassure her. No words came out. He looked up and she looked at him, their eyes meeting. Not across a flight of stairs, across an eight inch space. He couldn't say a word, just let his fingers tighten.

She spoke. If she felt the increase in pressure from his hands, she gave no indication. "How long was I gone?"

He could answer that automatically. "Hundred forty-seven days yesterday. Uh- hundred forty-eight today." His even facade gave way again, a faint smile emerging. "'Cept today doesn't count, does it?"

She didn't answer. Her face was blank. Haunted, hunted, and yet somehow still blank.

"How long was it for you? Where you were?" He asked gently.

The living form replied in a dead voice. "Longer."

He kept hold on those hands, but he lost the eyes.

Didn't matter. He wouldn't lose the chance again. He still liked to win and he'd lost far too much. She still needed something he should have been able to give her. She'd been dying inside before she died for real, and he had lost the chance to bring her back to life, to put the sparkle in her eyes, to put the smile on her face.

She needed it more than ever now. Slayers had craved the looked of peace. Someone had given it to her, and then ripped it away. He had no idea what had happened or what would. There were only two things he knew.

They were all players on some giant cosmic chessboard of life and death, and you took turns at a million games within the game. She'd lost her life. He' lost his turn. He'd never get another chance, he'd never get her back, she'd never see that he could win, that he wouldn't stop trying to win at least, at the game of making her happy. But it was one of those evil games, where the instructions say you have to make it happen before the timer goes off and you're disqualified.

They'd run out of time.

They were both kicked out of the game.

Then someone changed the rules.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Rules Reset**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius 120, Neon Raver, Jewel74, Mike13z50, NausicA, omslagpapper, cavementftw, Illusera, rororogers, and Teddybear-514._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part II**

As soon as she was back, he wanted to spend every second with her, to make sure she was going to be okay, and to look after the little one for her, let her readjust, heal, keep everything nice and even. He would have offered them that, even if balancing this little family was like trying to balance a rabid badger on one shoulder and a mountainside on the other- likely to get you bitten, driven mad, crushed, weighed down, or simply lost in a landslide. But he wasn't the only one desperate to try to do what he could, and for once, and incredibly selfish personality didn't feel inclined to be selfish at all. She didn't just need him. She needed all of them. She'd loved all of them- and she didn't love him at all. She didn't think she could back then, who knew about now after- after everything.

Maybe one day, though. If he ever got the chance to show her he was sorry, and prove he could make it better.

He distanced himself unwillingly, letting the others in.

Game delayed on account of not just reopening play, but reopening_ life_.

* * *

Everyone missed her, everyone needs her, and she is drowning trying to swim to all of them at once. They try so hard to understand, but they can't.

At first, he didn't know why things seemed strained, more strained than even he would have believed possible. He had ideas, but he wasn't sure.

Right until they were in that alleyway together.

* * *

He wanted to be with her, beside her, hell, he wanted to be _inside_ her... but everything was a tangle for her and he was busy thanking all the deities he didn't really like and that didn't like him either, that she was back. Alive. That someone someplace said he got a second chance , and busy realizing, with a sickening thud, why the ones he thought had begun to grudgingly accept him had excluded him from their plan, their work, why they'd left him and the girl to fend on their own.

They knew it might not work, they knew something might go wrong, something horrible would come back. Something who would walk like Buffy, talk like Buffy, but not be "their Buffy". And they'd off her.

He'd never let them do that. Because he knew the myth. The vampire myth was the embodiment of "It's the person but not the person". Ugly and unappetizing as it was to the little humans, lots of it was a lie. Yeah, you weren't yourself, but you were_ in_ there. You might even be_ more _yourself, not the person you showed the world, the person you were when stripped bare, the thoughts you had, maybe twisted up, but driven by what you wanted. You were bloody well boiled down to the distilled essence of yourself. A primal version of all that you desired. Sweet William- Dru called him that because she could see it in him- before _and_ after. Certain pieces never changed.

He'd never let them hurt her, nor would Dawn. She knew too, all about changing the shape, but still being what you were. So they were locked out of the plan, lest they protect a damaged version of the hero.

_She might not have been "their Buffy", but she'd still have been "ours". She'll always be mine._

* * *

She visited him in his crypt the day before. Just showed up. Made his heart thrill, that she was there, she'd come to him, and only for him.

Only, once she was there, he had to- he had to tell her what he'd said so many thousands of times, and it wasn't easy. He'd never been sure she could hear him when he explained before, speaking to himself, or a hunk of carved marble on a patch of grass. Now she was sitting a foot or two from him, eyes unwavering.

Her eyes were black in the darkness, and always looked liquid, as if tears were there. He wondered if his own eyes were like that. He thought they might be, around her.

"Uh." A pause. "I _do_ remember what I said. The promise. To protect her." He waited. No scoff. No 'Well, you sucked at that'. No spark left in her and it killed him worse than if she'd pulled a stake on him, said that was his punishment because he hadn't done his job. Instead, simply nothing.

He continued. "If I had done that ... even if I didn't make it ..." Here it was. The hardest part. _I finally did it, Luv, when I finally stopped wanting to. I killed you._ "You wouldn't have had to jump."

Nothing. Just looking at him, almost helplessly. _Oh, Luv, what'd they do, where'd they send you... or where'd they take you from, that you don't know yourself anymore? Doesn't matter. You're in there. I can bring you back, or love you just like this._

He pushed on, doggedly, like he had been for day after hundred -soddin' forty seventh day. "But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but - after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again. Do something different. Faster or more clever, y' know?" His voice was just a hushed rasp now. "Dozens of times, lots of different ways ..." So soft she almost had to watch his lips, not hear his voice. "Every night I save you."

No tears, no thanks, no retribution. She sat, battered hands clasped on her knees, his own bloodied hands (damaged from taking out his frustration with life, death, and incompetent witches on the cavernous walls below) clasped on his belt loops.

Something was broken. But he didn't have the missing piece to fix it. Not yet. _Please, Slayer, try to give me the tools, and don't tell me it's only time. I bloody hate waitin' on "time". But I guess I'd do a thousand things I hate, for you. _

They sat in silence for a long time. When she rose, he rose as well, arms open, defenselessly spread to his sides. "I better go."

"Yeah. Sure." He agreed quickly.

"Thank you." She whispered, before she vanished.

He blinked after her retreating back. Could it be just being around him helped? Or was she thanking him for all his imaginary saves? Didn't matter. He'd do what he'd always done to win. Watch, wait even though he disliked that part, learn his prey- then make a move when he got the gut instinct.

* * *

That push came to him the next day, though he'd planned to simply spend another day of quietly checking in on her and the Bit. He waited outside while she was inside the store, he listened to them talk, just dull murmurs, and then slipped onto the edge of some old crates in the narrow back street. He could tell her facial expression just by her tone of voice. She was smiling. But not at him, no, at the ones in there, the ones who brought her back, though she doesn't know they did it with "some conditions apply" in the backs of their brains. He sighed.

_You take your time. You come back slowly. I'll wait my turn._

He smoked, he watched the sun he could never defeat, and he thought of her, losing himself in thoughts of her.

Then she was there, like a bright shadow, golden and peach and pink, slipping into the shade of overhanging roofs.

"Buffy." He said it so she'd know he was there. He'd learned the hard way not to startle the girl.

When she looked up- it wasn't the happy face she put on for her friends. It was drawn and exhausted. He was instantly in motion, but slowly, turning to her, hands twitching, wanting to grab hers.

She looked at him, puzzled. "Spike, it's daylight and you're-"

He smirked at her, then at the sky. "Not on fire? Sun's low enough, shady enough here."

Buffy folded her arms around her middle, nodding vaguely.

Last year she'd have demanded to know exactly why he was there, was he stalking her, wasn't he being creepy, etc, etc. Now she just accepted his presence. But for familiarity's sake he put on his slightly mocking, nauseated voice. "I was gonna go inside, but I overheard you and the Super-friends exchanging a special moment and I came over a bit queasy."

Buffy brushed her hair out of her face, didn't seem to be listening.

Not a good sign. _I've given her the glove twice, once for the soft underbelly, and now a shot at my chin, a chance to snark right back. C'mon, Beautiful..._

He cleared his throat. "Say, aren't you leaving a hole in the middle of some soggy group hug?"

" Just wanted a little time alone."

Yet she walked over and sat beside him as she said it.

"Oh, uh, right then." This was good. This was a good first move, he could just leave and give her the space, show he respected what she wanted, he could give her what she needed. He got up, starting to walk away, but stopped at the place where shadow met sunlight. Positions were reversed. Shouldn't be. He was walking into the light, and she was cowering in the dimness. Something prickled his senses, but he ignored it. He squinted up at the sky. _What the hell, I can run. But I don't want to get singed to death now, I've finally got a second chance. Both of us do. _

She almost smiled. "That's okay. I can be alone with you here."

"Thanks ever so." He returned the ghost of a smile with a rueful one of his own.

"Right." A hollow voice. For the hollowed out girl.

Dammit, so much for waiting. "Buff?" He turned to her, dark eyes intense, no more teasing, no more punch pulling, deadly earnest. "Slayer? Are you okay?"

Buffy let her fingertips dart over her face again, tucking hair behind her ear, caught in a breeze she never thought she'd feel again. _No. But don't tell him. Don't tell anyone._ She nodded. "I'm here. I'm good."

_No denying that, you _are_ good_. He walked slowly back to her, brows almost together, looking intently at her, the only thing in the world he could see. "Buffy, if you're in- if you're in pain, or if you need anything...or if I can do anything for you..." The words dragged out slowly, but only because he hated thinking of her in pain or in any trouble now, knowing he caused it. He spoke in a somber, heartfelt voice, every word pulled out, because he wanted them to weigh so much, he wanted her to feel every ounce of meaning he had in them.

She looked down at her lap. She'd wanted to tell him earlier. The real reason she came to see him. She could go anywhere, but she chose to go see him. His crappy, scary little place was an oddly comforting one. The one where she'd opened up, told him... It had meant so much, to know he was there for her, and to just be able to talk. To tell the truth the way you see it, good or bad, just let it out! _But don't. Don't say it out loud, this isn't the same. Just answer the question he almost asked, reject the offer. _"You can't."

He refused to accept that answer. Her head didn't rise back up, but he kept talking to her. Had to get her to see that even if he'd screwed up royally before, he wouldn't fail again. Had to show her he could help somehow. "Well, I haven't been to a hell dimension just of late, but I do know a thing or two about torment." He eased over and sat beside her, close, but not touching. That was his opening gambit, but he had so much more to say, to remind her of, but she never gave him a chance.

She was still looking down when the words flew out of her mouth, hard on the heels of his. "I was happy."

_Happy?_ He inclined his head slightly, wondering if he'd misheard. But he knew he hadn't. He looked at her in puzzlement, the dread wheels beginning to grind.

_Don't say anymore, don't say it, you can't unsay it..._ "Wherever I - was," she began falteringly, "I was happy. At peace." _And now everything in this world feels so different, but I'm still the same, at least around one person. Him. The things I never meant to say to anyone, I just pour 'em out around Spike. Like that night. _

He stared, shocked, horror rearing awake in his mind, but it hadn't reached his face yet. _No. No, no, no. But of course, yes, yes, yes. Why the hell do you think she's like this? This strain, this quiet? Yeah, pain does it to you, what horrors you endure, it weakens you, might make you different. But you're glad when it's over._

_Wherever she was, she's out of it now. She's miserable about it, too. It wasn't _supposed _to be over._

Like the snowball rolling down a hill, the first few words grew and tumbled free, more and more, faster and faster, though still hesitant. "I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I _knew it_. Time ... didn't mean anything. Nothing had form, but I was still me, you know?" She glanced at him. _Of course he knows. It's why I'm telling him. _Her head dropped back, away from him again. "And I was warm." A pause. "And I was loved."

His face contracted suddenly, just like his heart was doing inside of him, but she didn't see it. She looked out, away, maybe back into that formless place where she was safe.

It was harder to talk, but hardest of all to stop. So much anger and confusion and pain, and she felt it all so much, so acutely- frankly, now she'd gone numb. Like when something heavy sits on you too long, you just lose all feeling. "I was finished. Complete." Her lips turned into a troubled little twitch, eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to explain, speaking hesitantly. " I don't understand about theology or dimensions, or any of it, really- but I think I was in heaven."

His face showed dismay, that nagging little piece of the puzzle slotting neatly into place- and suddenly changing the whole picture. _She doesn't look like a haunted soul. She looks like one of the angels they cast out. Only she was never meant to be. They took her paradise away..._

When she continued, she was almost tearful."And now I'm not. I was torn out of there. Pulled out ... by my_ friends_." Her lips gave a little quiver of disgust. His own face was stunned, but other than that, it was frozen, almost impassive. She couldn't see her mere shiver of dislike was setting off a full throated shouting torrent inside his head.

Her words just fanned that flame to an inferno. "Everything here is -" she searched for a word, knowing she didn't want to give it a definition. If you can name it, you know it, if you know it, you can feel it. "Everything here is- hard, and bright, and _violent." _She seemed to jump inside her skin, like she couldn't get away from whatever she was feeling, her breathing picking up.

He had to look away. He wanted to kill them all. And that would be the worst thing in the world for her._ Focus. Focus, William, on making it better. _

"Everything I feel, everything I touch ... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that," her voice faded, eyes so deeply troubled, "knowing what I've lost..."

His shuddering in silence brought her back to herself. She'd forgotten she had an audience for just a was one of his gifts-slash-curses. You could just open up, tell him the truth, start talking- and forget he was there. Or forget what you should or shouldn't say. Like that one night, one bottle, one session of confessions, long ago... So much longer ago to her.

* * *

_Months ago..._

_She talked to the floor, plowing herself into the ground now with this admission, every bad thought, every betrayal of herself, what and who she ought to be. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, Spike. See how wrong it sounds? It's because it _is _wrong. It's sick. But does that stop me? Oh no. No, instead I have dreams where you and I are together, talking, fighting. Hell, even doing the wild thing, all hot and pokey and prickly, and it's good."_

_ "Why is it such a terrible tragedy, Buffy?" Spike's voice was soft and low in her mind, the way it had been that night. _

_"Because I have dreams about someone I can never be with, never even love."_

* * *

Her face lost the vacant, troubled look, replaced by one of discomfort. Buffy rose, smoothing her skirt with quick, uneasy tugs.

Positions reversed once again, he was back on the crates in the shadows, and she was staring out towards the sunlight as she walked away from him.

She paused where light met dark. _Do I really want to leave him? He's the only one who knows, who I can tell. _

_ Better to keep it like that._

She turned to flash him a quick glance over her shoulder, watched him struggle to say something, and silenced him. "They can never know. Never."

She walked into the sun, but she was heading deeper into that blackness he'd been longing to save her from.

* * *

He couldn't follow her.

Couldn't help her.

_The hell, you say._

_So you knocked over the board and stole half the pieces._ He paced like a caged tiger, stuck in the light's prison. He was no longer mad at himself, not _as_ mad, at any road, but mad at the world and the asses who pluck people out of heaven mistaking it for hell. _How?_ Never mind how, wondering how doesn't fix a damn thing.

The pacing slowed, and he walked to that line of shadow and light, the line he couldn't cross.

_You don't know me if you think there's nothing I can do for you. Every night I saved you. Just 'cause I didn't think I'd ever get a _chance_ to play this game, Slayer, doesn't mean I don't know _exactly_ what moves to make._

_Every night I saved you. _ The sun lowered, beam by beam, and he waited, coiled, ready to run, to put the wheels in motion.

_Finally, instead of every night, it's_ tonight.

Darkness fell, and he ran.

* * *

_To be continued..._

_Note: Prepare to depart the canon train, Sweet is driving from here._


	3. Chapter 3

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: I don't mean to bash on the Scoobies, and I hope you all know from my other stories how much I love of all of them, so you don't think I'm portraying them unfairly. Even in this scenario, they believed they were helping, and they had no idea what problems were caused by their actions, and then by Buffy trying to shield them as the through thick and thin friend we've come to love. Nonetheless, they are still "to blame" for the situation. Just trying to let everyone know where the author's bias/un-bias is._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius 120, Neon Raver, Jewel74, Mike13z50, NausicA, omslagpapper, cavementftw, Illusera, rororogers, Teddybear-514, The Three March Hares, MaireAilbhe, haleycc, Rosalea12 and Little Missy123._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part III**

"Dawn!" Spike hissed.

"Spike? Why don't you just use the front door?" Dawn asked, putting down a notebook and pencil and siding off the couch, heading to the windows at the back of the living room.

"I need to talk to you, an' I don't want to talk to everyone else jus' now."

"Oh, God. It's Buffy, isn't it?" Dawn looked instantly ill.

"Hm?" Spike looked around the room. "Didn't she come home?"

"For two seconds. Then she was out again, just in a different outfit. Willow and Tara aren't back yet. I think she thought they would be home any second, but..." Dawn shrugged uncomfortably. "Come in, no one else is here anyway."

Spike bristled but tried not to show it as he hauled himself in neatly through the window. "I think Big Sis may have been tryin' to avoid talking to them. Not avoid you, Pidge."

Dawn shrugged, but felt relieved inside. Spike had that affect on her. "She made me a sandwich and packed my lunch for school this morning."

"Good, that's good, Bit." He nodded and lit up nervously. How to word this just so, not betray Slayer's trust- something in precious short supply around here- and still get done what he needed to get done?

"Spill." Dawn crossed her arms nervously. Spike just looked at her. "Oh, c'mon. You don't want to see anyone, you want to just talk to me-" The young girl's eyes widened in a panic. "It's that demon hitchhiking thing. It's back, isn't it? Oh, my God, it's back and they decided they have to- we can't let them! We can't let them send Buffy back, I told them, that's worse than never bringing her back at all!"

Spike's eyes slitted and his jaw hardened. "What are you sayin'? I'm not here to talk about that at all."

"Oh. Oh, good." Dawn ran a hand over her cheek, pale skin even paler. "My bad. All over now."

"Tell me anyway." He urged in a gritty voice that would be meant to scare any other human. But not the girl. He thought she knew by now, that he was tough, certainly not "good", but he wouldn't hurt her.

To Dawn the tone was not scary at all, but it did mean not to piss him off or argue. "The spell they used. To bring her back? It made a little demon, and last night-" she swallowed, "it was moving around, and it could get inside you, and all the sudden you were doing things and saying things-"

She suddenly looked woozy. Spike moved over, caught her elbow and sat her down in one of the old high backed chairs that Joyce kept by the back window, her little antiques corner. "What'd it do? What'd it do to you?"

"It doesn't matter, it wasn't after us, it wanted Buffy." She tried to shrug it off bravely. The price for being a fifteen year old on the Hellmouth. You acted brave as much you could. No one asked about her nightmares. Being held captive by Glory, thinking she was going to die, her dad never being around after she lost Buffy and her mom, her... everything. They asked about what made her sad, not what _scared_ her. Spike asked though.

He asked now. "Doesn't matter, my arse. Did it hurt you? If it hurt you, we're gonna hurt_ it_."

Dawn shook her head. "It was scary, but not until it was done. I breathed fire and I called Tara and Willow names." She bit her lip. "I remember feeling mad at them and then waking up on the floor. That's it."

_I feel pretty angry at them myself, but that's not gonna help the current problem. _"So this thing, it messed with your head?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't messing with us just to mess with us- it was sort of created by all the magic Willow had to bring up to make Buffy come back. It was only temporary."

"Thank God for small mercies." Spike muttered through a cloud of smoke.

"But if it could kill Buffy- it could stay permanently. O-only," her voice shook and stumbled briefly, "Willow didn't know it was temporary, at first, and she was reading about how it was like a part of the spell. To get rid of it, we'd have to reverse the spell." She concluded in a small, miserable, lost voice, "Make it like it never happened."

_Alright. Brass tacks time_. He got down on his haunches, looked up into her face, young face, with very old eyes hiding behind all that unlined youth. Oh yes. She knew about forms changing but still being yourself. "You an' I will never, ever let 'em take Buffy away again. It was my fault she left the first time," he coughed to cover the catch in his throat.

"It was _my_ fault!" She shoved herself out of the chair, looking at him with a flash of rebellion.

"Fine, it was our fault, it was no one's fault, the thing is," he rose up with her, "no one'll take her away." Now the tricky part, "Just, I don't think it's as easy as we all think for her to be back."

"No duh." Dawn rolled her eyes. "Who knows what happened to her?"

_She was warm. She was loved. She was at peace. She was finally in that eternal rest, only some little witch didn't do her homework and cut eternity short. _"That's right, Bit. An' Buffy's not ready to talk about that yet." _Yet, as in never. At least that's what she wants to try to do, keep it to herself- and me, the person you see when you don't want to tell another living soul. What with me bein' unlivin', and soulless. _

"I'm not pushing her." Dawn looked at her hands. "I mean, maybe I am. I don't want to. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." She gave him a helpless look.

He swore inside his head. He hated that look, less than he hated it on the Slayer, but still pretty damn much. "I don't know either, but I have a hunch." He confided. Dawn's eyes lit up and he felt his hard lips uncontrollably turn into a smile. "You gotta help me." His smile vanished and he looked down at his boots. "You know how I feel about her."

"You love her." Dawn nodded. "I know. She knows, too."

His eyes flashed hopefully to hers, and it was her turn to smile. "You think?"

"Yeah, I think. At least, she used to know. Before..." She trailed off, then hardened her voice. "She didn't like it though. And gotta say, no wonder, 'cause you screwed up a lot."

He laughed. Only _she_ would say that. "I won't screw up this time. If you can trust me, an' give me a little help?"

"Yes, I trust you. Again, no duh, and yes I'll help, what do I do?"

"First things first, what about this tag along demon?"

"Oh, Willow made it solid and Buffy killed it. Swish, no more head." Dawn looked sick. "I really don't like it when there are monster things right in our house. Especially upstairs."

"Present company excluded, I hope." He joked so that he didn't start in on a rant, about how bloody awful they were making things for Buffy. Come back- get left in a coffin (rookie mistake), fight Hellions, relive your dying moments, get rescued by your terrified little sister, and then instead of having a few days off, get attacked by accidentally created and tied to you demons. Oh yes, lots of laughs, the worst course of recuperation for anyone torn out of heaven,_ or_ hell.

"You're okay in the house." Dawn rolled her eyes. "I meant icky demons, not hot ones."

"Oooh, Bit! Someone thinks I'm hot." He teased, and she blushed.

"I didn't just say that."

"No, of course you didn't. Now, what your sis needs is- is a few days with no expectations. No work. Just rest. Get herself back to herself, y'know?"

"I'm with you on that, but we're in the bad capital of the world. How are we supposed to give her a couple days off? It's not like evil takes vacations."

He raked his hands through his slicked back hair, unslicking it in the process. "I'll handle the patrols. Maybe the others can cover. Like they did before." _It was only a few days ago, they can't have thought she'd be back to full fightin' strength in just a few days... except they could, and she was. She's a survivor, and they idolize her. Humans. So many idiots. Well-meaning idiots..._ "I'll see if I can't finagle that somehow."

"No. I'll 'finagle'." Dawn got a set to her jaw. "What else do we need?"

"Niblet, you can't just-"

"She's my _sister_." Dawn said fiercely. "Don't you ever, ever tell me I _can't_. Not after what she did for me." Her eyes challenged him, at the same time they were flickering with scared shadows, old memories flying in tandem with new determination.

Spike's lips twitched in a grin that turned into a broad smiling chuckle. "You're not a pigeon, you're a pit bull." He briefly let his battered knuckle trace her cheek. "Bloody good watchdogs."

"Pit bull. I like it." She smiled back. "So? Is there anything else I need to do besides tell everyone Buffy needs a few days off?"

"Hmm." This would work so much better if he could have her away from everyone who was waiting for her to magically "spring back" without knowing where she was springing back _from_. "When's the Watcher coming back?"

"He had to put the flat he found in London back up for sale and all his stuff was being shipped over, and now he has to wait for it to arrive so he can turn it around and send it back. He said by the end of the week if everything was okay. We told him it was okay enough." She shrugged.

He closed his eyes and thought. "Look, I'll level with you. The wiccas are lovely, but I'd rather they be out of the house, so they don't pop in on her all the damn time. They'll never go for that though. I thought maybe we could tell 'em to bunk at the Watcher's for a few days. You'll be at school, I could keep watch down here- we could just let her sleep, think... settle in." _Not take on the whole world at once. Just one familiar house. Maybe stop feeling like she's in hell, start to feel like she's just in the world. Painful, bright, violent world- but she has a safe spot in it. _

_He's not telling me something._ Dawn knew it, but at the same time, she didn't worry about it. Spike kept very few things from her, and they were usually things she'd find out about later. "You can't tell me whatever's going on?"

He startled. "Uh..."

"You don't treat me like I'm stupid." She pointed out.

"It's just me bein' worried. I got a reason." That was as much as he could say.

They exchanged a look.

No one else would trust him. Good thing she did. Dawn sighed. "Leave it to me."

"Not to underestimate your pit bull like qualities, Luv, but you know they love your sister, too. They're not gonna think the way we do, 'cause they'll wanna help." _And they bloody well should, after how they screwed up... Only it's hard to help if you don't know what's the matter and she doesn't want to tell 'em what's wrong..._

Dawn raised one eyebrow. "You've forgotten about my secret weapons."

"Have I now?" He tried not to laugh again, she was being so deadly serious, yet cocky. He must've been a good influence, in some weird way.

"Yeah. Probably because I don't have to use them on you." She held up two fingers, "Guilt. And whining." She swished her hair. "No one does it better."

He looked heavenward in relief. "You're an angel, and I'm glad you're on my team."

She blinked at the team reference but then ignored it. Spike said plenty of things she ignored. "How are you going to get Buffy to agree to this though?"

"If you handle the Scoobies, I'll handle the Slayer."

_Wouldn't want _your _job... _Both of them silently recognized.

"Battle stations then?" Spike squared his shoulders.

"Locked and loaded." She blew on her fingers.

She showed him to the door, and he sped off, sure where he'd find her.

_Two on one. So it's not fair odds. I don't care how I play. Just as long as I win. _Her smile emblazoned itself on his mind, lighting his way through the night. _If I win- she wins, too._

* * *

"Dawnie! We're home, we stopped and bought take out!" Tara called as soon as she entered the house.

"And company!" Anya chimed in.

"Hi." Dawn waved and trotted in from the living room. "Mmm, do I smell teriyaki ribs?"

"You so do." Xander slid the white cardboard boxes out. "Triple order, you, me, and Buffster. Buuuff! The rib-man cometh!"

"She's not here. She went out."

The dinner unpacking and divesting of coats and purses stopped abruptly. "Out?" Willow's eyebrows scrunched together like a worried puppy's.

"Sh-she left you alone at night?" Tara's heart shaped mouth turned into a gentle frown.

"_She's_ out alone?" Xander sat the ribs down with a thud.

"Don't wig." _Okay, guilt. Pull it out... _"Y'know- this is a lot for her. I think she just needs to rest. Um. Because she went through so much."

"We know that, Sweetie, but she has to be feeling better than she did. She was trapped in some hell dimension and now she's home safe." Tara put a consoling arm across Dawn's shoulders.

"I get that. But- have you noticed she doesn't want to talk, or look at us, or - or anything?"

"She's just adjusting." Willow said hastily.

"She's adjusting to being a slayer again." Anya added. "That's a hell of an adjustment. She's only been back a few days and she's already had to fight Hellions and that hitchhiker thing."

Concerned glances were exchanged. "She hasn't been sleeping well." Willow admitted.

"Or eating." Tara bit her lower lip anxiously.

"Maybe she has inter-dimensional flu?" Anya suggested

"More like after death jet lag." Xander slowly put chopsticks around six places on the table.

"Maybe there's a spell." Willow abruptly turned from the table, preparing to go upstairs and hunt down a cure.

"No!" Dawn shook her head frantically. "Willow, you're a great witch, but sometimes, people just have to have a little vacation."

"Buff? Take a vacation." Xander scoffed. Then locked eyes with Willow. "I don't think she's ever taken a vacation. _Ever_."

"She went to LA that time."

"The time she ran away after killing her first love, or the time she came back mad at all of us and apparently was hugging the post-death blues nice and close the whole time she was away?"

"See?" Dawn jumped in quickly. "She needs a break! A-a- spa week."

Anya shook her head. "Spas aren't cheap. And the costs we've been having..."

"Not an actual spa, a spa like- just lying around here, in comfy pjs."

"Bubble bath!" Tara gasped with a sudden good suggestion.

"Chocolate." Willow added on.

"I could get her some aromatherapy candles at a deep discount from the store." Anya mused. Xander elbowed her. "I mean for free."

"You guys are the best." Dawn hugged them all at once- well, at least in such quick succession it felt like all at once.

_Phase one done... phase two coming up._

She waited until they were all sitting down, eating, tossing it out casually. "Did you notice how jumpy she is around us, any sudden noises or moves?"

"You can't imagine what a demon dimension is like." Anya spoke with quick authority. "Everything is out to get you, you can't trust any of your senses... Everything a constant surprise..." She sniffled suddenly. "Sorry. Homesick."

"Seriously?" Willow gaped.

"For me! For Buffy- going to a place where there was never any peace, never a moment to rest, to get your thoughts in order, to always, always be fighting demons- well, it was hell. Literally."

Dawn squinted at her plate. _That sounds like here. Just less._ "I was thinking, maybe we could all try to keep out of her way. Anya and Xander, you have work, Willow and Tara, you have class. But at night-"

"We have to patrol. No point in having a nice soothing bubble bath and then going out and mud wrestling vampires." Xander said quickly. "We'll handle it for another week. No big."

"Yes, big." Anya muttered. "But at least with the real Slayer back in town, things are dying down to a less loud roar."

"Spike could help you patrol, I know he would."

More glances exchanged. "Yeah, Dawn, I'll ask him." Xander cleared his throat and nodded.

"I have school, too. But at night, it could be just Buffy and I. Although- ohh. People coming in and out late at night-" she turned her widest, most innocent eyes to Tara and Willow, "that'd probably make her wake up screaming. Nightmares. If she's even able to sleep."

"We'll be quiet." Willow said pensively. "I could use a silencing spell."

"Honey, don't use magic for everything." Tara admonished gently. "I'm sure we can just manage not to stomp around like -"

"Slayer senses." Anya interjected casually around a mouthful of cashew chicken. "Whatever we think is silent isn't silent at all to Buffy."

"See? Silencing spell." Willow insisted.

"Magic always has consequences." Xander reminded her, unwillingly thinking of the shouted warning Spike had given him so recently.

"It's just a little spell, it's not raising the dead." Willow gave him an angry look. "You know what I mean. It's nothing! All it does make a little soundproof bubble."

"That's dangerous, though." Tara continued to disagree with her lover, even though she didn't like to do it. "What if there was an intruder, or we needed to shout a warning or Buffy needed to hear what was going on, and she couldn't?"

"I have an idea!" Dawn hated this. Willow and Tara disagreeing was almost like watching her parents fighting. She'd never really been there for those fights, but she got the uncomfortable memory of watching two people who should be in love being upset at each other instead. "Giles won't be back for a few days. Why don't you guys go over there until he gets back? And Buffy will have a mini-vacation from everything, just have some time to herself. I could even sleep over there, if she wants the house totally to herself."

"Well..." Tara looked at her girlfriend.

"She'll be all lonely." Willow pouted.

"I can stay here! Or not, it's whatever she wants. And she'll call if she's lonely." Dawn widened her pleading eyes. "Pllleeeeease? Can't we just try it? If it helps her get back to normal, what's the harm?"

"I don't like the idea of her being all by herself during the day if she's not back in the groove. If she's so exhausted and everything." Xander put down a dumpling.

"Spike can guard the house. He's all silent so he won't wake her up, and he totally helped patrol all this summer and he fought Glory, so you know he's trying to help protect us. He can sleep on the couch, or in the basement on a cot, just like he did all the times you left him here to babysit me." She hit the last words a little bit harder, knowing they'd argue, and forestalling it. _You can't possibly say it's too dangerous for the Slayer, even a burnt out one, if you left little, defenseless me with him night after night after night._

Uncomfortable and possibly accusatory glances swept between the four adults. "It's up to Buffy." Willow finally said.

"But if she likes the idea of a 'staycation'?" Dawn pressed excitedly.

"Welcome to the Summers Hotel, complete with one very enthusiastic little manager." Xander flicked a snow pea at her and she giggled. "Just don't get your hopes up yet, Dawnie." Xander thought of the group hug they'd exchanged earlier, her heartfelt words. His little surrogate family was being rebuilt. "I think Buff is starting to feel better."

* * *

"Thought I'd find you here," While his cohort tackled the fearsome foursome, Spike dealt with their leader.

Buffy barely jumped when he entered the crypt, found her sitting in the dark. "I feel better here." She whispered.

"Not so bright." He nodded.

"Quiet, too."

"Love that." She looked at her hands. "Sorry to crash."

"Please, my crypt is your- crash point." He slid off his coat, and sat close to her as he dared. "I stopped by to see Dawn."

"Mhm."

"No one else was home yet."

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed." Guilt poked and prodded her, but it only had the undesirable effect of making her hate the world a little more.

"No, I think you should've gotten the hell out." He chuckled softly. "You don't need to wear the happy mask all the time, do you, Luv?"

"With them, yeah. It seemed to make them kind of irritable when I didn't." She sighed. "They tried to rescue me. I get that."

"But you don't want to tell them they got the rescue part sod all wrong?"

"No." She shook her head slowly. Then lifted her head for the first time, looking at him. "I don't want you to, either."

"I know. I won't. That's your deal to tell." He licked his dry lips, abnormally dry. "Slayer- d'you remember the game we played?"

She nodded silently.

"I want a - rematch is the wrong word. I want to try that other thing we mentioned. If you remember it." She looked at him dully.

"Alcohol might help, I don't know." She shrugged.

"Not the booze. The chance to make you happy."

She laughed, a scornful single shout in the blackness, a noise so foreign to both of them that he stared, and she had to close her eyes. "Happiness isn't going to happen."

He swallowed. "I know that, Buffy."

She hadn't expected that, and it made her heart and head do a sudden reality check. What was that feeling? Was that relief? A slight slowdown from the continuous pain she was in, the pain of coping, lying, faking, and pretending?

He continued in a soft, even tone. "I don't think you can feel happy, if you're in so much pain. So I thought maybe I could start with just tryin' to help you hurt less?"

Her shut eyelids quivered. _You already are_. "I don't know what you can do."

_Well, this is a step up from "You can't", and it's only been a few hours. Bully for us. _"How about if you have a few days off? No patrol, no chores, no work, no heavy thoughts, no one around but Dawn. An' maybe me, so I can help look after the day to day stuff."

"The guys-"

"Could give you a few days off. Just to catch up on your sleep, to just lounge about an' ignore the ugly ol' world. All you'd have to do is be here. An' that'd be enough for all of us."

Simply existing here hurt. But if that was the only requirement, if just being here would be enough for someone... She shuddered out a breath. "I can't ask them to do that, I can't tell them why I need it."

"Dawn's explaining it to them in a way that doesn't hurt anyone, Pet." He reached gently and slowly across the few feet of space between them, tapping her knee just once.

_Everything here is hard and loud, bright and violent. But this isn't. This is soft, and quiet, and dark. The world is hurting me, spinning around me, heaven's all gone. But this doesn't hurt._ "Spike..."

"I'll keep your secret, and all I want to do is make it not hurt. Please." He pled so simply. Right now, simple was good. "Please let me try."

It was the first softness she'd felt since returning. Not even the hug she'd shared earlier with her friends, because it was all a lie, the reason for the reunion, the message prior to the hug. Scuffed up vampire fingers, on her knee. Softness. He couldn't help that everything else still hurt.

"You did really well the last time, I gotta say." She tried to let her walls down.

He didn't let them all fall at once, he eased them down. "This won't be like that. No pain. Unless you want to talk."

"No." She was equally quick. "Not yet. Not to anyone but you."

He didn't want to push, but it was the fine line, where the ball is rocking on the edge, it'll either go in or go out, one touch is all it'll take to change things. So he nudged. "So. Let me try. Remember, I do know a lot about you, maybe there's something I can do."

"You're already doing it." She let her hand grace his before she pushed herself up.

"Can I walk you home?" He whispered, hesitating behind her as she moved away.

Her feet froze. The nights felt dark and heavy, but somehow not as screamingly searing as the days. Nights were more sickening with their hidden evils, memories of nightmarish rebirth and battle, watching her own form torn apart... She shook her head to clear it. Heaven had no time, no form, no day, no night. Nothing sneaking and lying in wait, nothing hard and glaring.

When he was there, things lost their hard edges. She couldn't explain why. He wasn't safe. Yet she didn't feel endangered around him. He hadn't dragged her back to the hell she was in. Now he was trying to lift her out of it. She was- perhaps the word was- grateful.

"Thank you." She murmured, accepting his offer.

He held the door for her, and they walked in silence, heading home. She adjusted her steps so she could match his, and he shortened his stride to make it easier.

No one spoke, they just seemed to know the route, like they'd walked it a hundred times. They took the long way.

_But at least we're moving._

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: Simple, slow, fluffy. Healing first, happiness second._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius 120, cavementftw, rororogers, and Teddybear-514._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part IV**

He watched her footsteps slow down more and more, the closer they got to the house. By the time they reached the porch it looked like it was physically painful for her to move. "C'mon, Slayer, you go in, listen to your sis roll out the idea of having a few days off, and then everyone'll be out of your way." _I hope._

"I'll try." Buffy said obscurely. She heaved a sigh and put on a happy face before pushing open the front door.

"Hey, Buff, we've got dinner." Xander's voice greeted her first. "Teriyaki ribs."

"Mmm." She tried to sound hungry, but it was an effort to feign enthusiasm in food when you feel permanently bombarded by sounds and colors. Like living in a fun house with no fun. Hello, ever present tilt-a-whirl stomachache.

"Here, we kept everything warm." Anya went to the kitchen and came back out with a foil wrapped plate from the oven. "Hungry?"

"Uh. Yeah. Thanks." Buffy sat down, looking over her shoulder at Spike, who no one had seemed to notice yet.

"Spike, come on in, want Chinese?" Dawn asked brightly, smiling at him.

"No thanks, Bit. Just ran into the Slayer when doin' a sweep. Figured I'd walk over, see how things were." He smiled at her, but then tried to keep a facade of complete indifference. When the others turned their rapt attention back to Buffy, he mouthed, "Well?" with raised brows. Dawn gave him two thumbs up from the vicinity of her lap. He flashed her back the go ahead sign.

"Is it dried out?" Tara's maternal instinct went into overload as Buffy merely picked at her food, none of it going in her mouth.

Buffy looked up, spearing a piece of broccoli on her fork, eyes finding Spike's and Dawn's, Dawn up at the head of the table, Spike in the half light of the doorway behind the younger girl. Both had impassive faces, but alert, expectant eyes. _I can't do this. I can't just stop doing things, shut myself off. Only I'm not supposed to be here at all. It all hurts. Even being asleep hurts, dreams and sounds, everything burning around me, too bright, too loud, too fast._ Her stomach flip flopped, like she had motion sickness even sitting still. "I can't eat right now." She dropped the fork gently. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Buffy, no..." Willow was up and her arm was around her in a split second. "Don't be sorry."

"Do you feel sick?" Dawn asked, hands clasping the table edge nervously.

"I'm just... tired and I feel queasy sometimes." Buffy made herself smile reassuringly and picked up her fork again.

"You need some recupe time." Dawn's voice seemed louder than ever, some signal in her words.

"Yes. You've had a huge and horrific experience and you need a few days of pampering and rest to recover from it." Anya patted Buffy's shoulder briskly. "Do you prefer lavender, lemon, or rose?"

"Huh?" Buffy looked puzzled.

"We want to give you a mini-vacation. Complete with aromatherapy candles." Xander explained Anya's obscure comment.

"Wh-where am I going?" Buffy looked at Spike in alarm. This was not part of the deal.

"A _staycation_." Dawn corrected. "You'd just chill here. No patrol, no chores, no hassles. Just sleep and bubble baths and fuzzy slippers."

"I'll help on patrol." Spike spoke up.

"And we were thinking we could go to Giles' for a few days." Willow rubbed her friend's back as she sat down beside her. "Not that we want to, but Dawnie thought maybe all the people coming in and out would disturb you when you were finally getting to rest."

_Rest._ Buffy blinked, sudden tears of longing, exhaustion, and relief surprising her. "I haven't been sleeping well." She rubbed at her eyes quickly, with a sniff. "Getting all bloodshot."

"We'd handle everything, I'd stay out of your hair, and maybe Spike could hang out in the basement sometimes during the day, y'know. Like hotel security." Dawn mentioned.

"If you needed him to." Xander cut in quickly.

"I don't mind. Do whatever you need, Slayer." He said quietly in that same casual tone.

Xander turned to him, arm over the back of Anya's chair, swiveling in his own. "We're trying to make things less stressful. I don't know if undead 'security' in the house fits under that heading."

_No, but bein' dragged out of heaven, that's _real _relaxin'_. Spike shrugged. "Whatever suits her."

Xander nodded tersely and turned back. "It's just an idea, Buff. All of it."

"Do you like it?" Dawn asked nervously. "A couple days of slay-free, stress-free napping and fun at the Summers Resort?"

_Everyone's looking at me. So many different expressions, they want me to say yes, or no, or I'm fine, I don't need it, I do it, I can't- _She wanted to escape them all. "Yes. That sounds wonderful." Buffy smiled around them, eyes forced open, even though she wanted to close them, keep everything out. "I love you all, but I would love a couple days where the only thing I had to see was the back of my eyelids and a pillow." She sighed.

They all laughed, a warm, encouraging sound, and the ball of fear in her chest loosened slightly. "You- you guys don't mind?"

"No!" It was a resounding chorus.

"Whatever you need."

"We should have thought of this sooner."

"We didn't know what it would be like for you. Coming back." Willow squeezed her hand again. "Never did this before."

"I know." Buffy squeezed her friend's fingers in return. "You have no idea..." She murmured, more to herself than to others.

"Right then. You lot just let me know what you need."

"We'll handle patrol tomorrow night." Xander spoke up quickly.

"I can go with Willow and Tara to Giles'." Dawn offered.

"Giles' apartment is tiny, and it only has the one bedroom. Plus, catching the bus and getting dropped off- just stay here. And don't get in trouble." Buffy tried to sound teasing. "No loud parties."

"I promise." Dawn grinned her sprite-like smile.

"We'll go pack." Tara stood.

"Oh- you don't have to hurry. This is your home too. I don't want you guys to leave..." Guilt assailed her.

Anya squashed it. "They'll be coming in and out at all hours, leaving for classes at different times, helping with patrol, coming over to help me at the store." She shook her head sensibly. "You'll be getting startled awake constantly. Slayer senses are like that. The only one who even stands a chance of being here without disturbing you is Spike."

"And how wrong does that sound?" Xander mumbled.

"Oi!"

"It's fine." Buffy found her voice projecting before she'd even had time to process what was going on. "I'll be fine by myself, and Dawn'll keep me company at night. Okay?"

Nods were given. The table was cleared, the wiccas went upstairs to pack, even though Buffy told them again that there was no rush.

The room emptied, except for Buffy, her sister, and the man who kept to the periphery. "Gonna head out. Patrol."

Dawn looked between them. "But you're gonna come by and check in, right? The cot is still set up in the basement, and- and you won't make any noise."

"I could do that. If you like." He said casually to Buffy.

"Sure. Maybe tomorrow afternoon." She stood and smoothed her sweater, not sure what to do, to say. _"Thanks for helping me avoid my four closest friends."? "Thank you for arranging a vacation from my life."? "I'm sorry everyone is making me nervous and this place makes me sick."? "I'm not supposed to be here."? _She took a few strides to the two figures who remained with her. Who would remain with her, the two she wouldn't mind having around. Her sister who annoyed her. _But she loves me. They all love me. Just Dawn... and Spike... they're more worried about me, than worried about how I'm acting. I guess. What do I say?_

"Go get some sleep." Spike sidestepped her as she stood halfway across from him, almost letting their shoulders touch, but thinking better of it. "We've got this."

Buffy paused. Looking right at him, eye to eye. He nodded at her once, unspeaking, unsmiling. Then he was gone, out the front door, black on black into the night.

Willow and Tara, Xander and Anya left next, a herd of bags and promises, worried looks and entreaties to call if she needed anything, hearty voices saying they were looking in on Giles' place for him anyway, how most of his furniture was still there, how'd they be right at home. Noise, too much of it, all the confusing thoughts... as she grappled for replies, she felt like she was sinking, waiting for the noise to stop swirling around her and sucking her in deeper.

When it did, they waited until she spoke. Unlike Spike's unspoken exchange, they couldn't sense her lack of ability to form the right words, couldn't sense the pressure they put on her to speak more lies. So for them she had to create the words, promises and reassurances and fake disclaimers about how she was just fine and just needed a couple days undisturbed rest to "get back on her feet."

The door closed, locks clicked. Dawn stood before her.

Life started over. No Mom. No Dad. No Giles and all her friends. All the family she had left, all that still mattered. Her sister, literally made from part of her. "Dawnie, I'm so tired." She blurted, hating herself for having to admit it, hating herself because it was true. Mostly she hated that she was back here, in a world where negative emotions even existed.

"Then go to bed." Dawn leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"No... we can stay up. Have girl time." Buffy felt compelled to offer.

Dawn wanted to say yes so badly. But her sister had been the epitome of unselfish, and she could give some back. "You being in the same house is enough girl time for me. I'm just happy you're home, Buffy." She burst out of her stance impetuously and wrapped her arms around her sister, holding her tight.

The world slowed down for just a minute, nothing hard, nothing painful. She felt warm. And loved.

Still exhausted though. "You sure you don't mind?" Buffy asked as Dawn pulled back slowly.

"One hundred percent not minding."

* * *

Dawn stayed downstairs, the weary woman went up. She brushed, scrubbed, walked through the darkened upstairs hallway. Her room was still somewhat askew, traces of the disembodied brawl from last night remaining. She tired to ignore those reminders, tried to ignore everything around her.

_This life was over. Now I'm back in it._ Resentment welled up in her. It wasn't fair. For the first time in years, she had known peace. It was shattered, she was shattered, thrown back into this hellhole.

It would be selfish to cry. It would be ungrateful and totally unheroic.

_But no one's around. I'm not feeling gratitude, and I'm nobody's hero. Not for a couple days anyway. _

Chinks in the armor they'd forced her back into appeared, one for each tear. She fled her room and hid in the safety of a pounding, hot shower, water muffling the sobbing. She cried until all the cracks came through, all the armor washed away.

It was only fair. They'd grieved for their loss, and now she grieved for hers.

When no more tears came out, she dried off, feeling properly clean for the first time since she'd crawled from the earth that had trapped her, spitting mud, and clawing dirt. She returned to her room, found her softest night clothes, and fell onto her bed.

For the first time since returning, she slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

She was asleep. He could tell. But Dawn wasn't. And on a school night. _Chit._ Spike slid open the window at the back of the living room. "Dawn." He breathed out her name just enough to let her hear it.

Dawn looked up from the television. She was watching it on mute. "Hi." She didn't seem surprised at all to see him back.

"You oughta be in bed! It's nearly one! An' leavin' the window unlocked, in this town? Are you mental?" He whispered, moving with his vampire's soundless agility.

"I knew you'd come in this way, and the other doors and windows are locked." Dawn moved from the couch and showed him the heavy wooden staff that had been nestled beside her. "Vampires have to ask to come in, demons don't usually barge into houses, and robbers - thump." She smiled and whispered back, with much more courage than she felt. "What happened to you? Insult a gang of demon bikers?"

Spike wiped his bleeding, puffed lip, and smoothed his mussed hair with a cracked and torn hand. "I may have overextended myself. But now the human types won't have too much to do while Big Sis is getting her beauty sleep."

"How many did you get?" Dawn asked him with that near idol-worship he found so flattering.

"Five or ten." He bragged, puffing up._ Or twenty. Who cares? All I know is I can hunt a damn sight better without everyone in my way. An' I can fight dirty, too. I'm not after attacking the ones who are attacking, though that's all well an' good. Tonight was about preventive measures. After tonight- more demons'll lay low or play ball. That oughta help. _

"Five or ten _dozen_." Dawn shook her head admiringly. "Wow."

"Thanks, Niblet. Everything go okay?"

"Yeah. Buffy's asleep."

"An' so should you be!" He hissed. "Get on to bed, Pit Bull."

"I wanted to wait until you got back." She explained, but turned off the television. "Did we wake her up? I was totally trying for utter silence, and I realized- that's not me."

"She's still asleep. Deep in it, too. But she won't be for long if you don't stop yakking. You're both fine." He paused. "You wanna see me out?"

_Be brave. Be brave. I can do this. _"Sure."

"Or you want me to kip in the basement?"

Her eyes betrayed her.

He smiled, kissed her forehead, and took his coat off. "Not one more word. Bed."

She stuck out her tongue, but bounced upstairs on tiptoe, quiet and catlike, beaming.

He walked down to the basement, threw himself down on the cot that they'd put up for him during the summer. It was lumpy and had some annoyingly prominent springs, but he didn't care. It had been one more symbol of trying to re-earn the trust he'd unwillingly broken, the ability to protect her, not desert his post. He'd been so broken after being thrown from the tower, but he hadn't even felt it, had dragged himself up and over to her body on fractured legs... sobbing, listening for a heartbeat and hearing nothing. Broken promises. Broken bodies...

He blinked that image away and closed his eyes.

_Woosh-thud, thud-woosh._

_ Thump...Thump._

Dawn's heart. Faster. She was awake.

The other. Slow but there, humming with the steadiness of sleep.

_Two hearts layered over each other, the most beautiful rhythm in the world._

_ She's back. Hear that heartbeat. She's alive. Upstairs. Asleep. Safe. _

_ And loved. So very, very loved. _

He smiled and felt his chest give an involuntary shudder as he relaxed, listening to the human symphony around him.

They hadn't even officially started the game, and according to his heart, she'd already won the first round.

_You just wait, Luv. I'm gonna repay you._

* * *

Buffy woke up. A natural wake up this time. No startled banging or slamming, no voices, no cries, no sirens or roaring motors. The sun shifted through the blinds and caressed her face gently. The warm glow tricked her at first, soothing her, lulling her into that sensation of peace.

Then her eyes focused on an alarm clock and the stake she always kept next to her bed.

_Damn. Still here. _

With a groan she rolled onto her back. _I have to get up. I have to- I should check on Dawn. Her eyes drifted to the clock again. Noon. Whoa. I guess I did need some sleep._ Dawn was at school. The sun was shining. And she was still tired. Bone tired.

With a sigh she rolled once more, onto her side, facing the wall now, making herself a cocoon of pillows. _Just rest. It's okay to just rest. I'm _supposed_ to be at rest, but I'll take getting a day off if it's all the universe is willing to offer such a loyal customer..._

* * *

The day went differently than she'd expected. Around three she woke up again, and found her way downstairs. "Hello?"

No answer. She had the place to herself. At least until Dawn came home from school, though frankly, she was having a hard time remembering when that happened.

A moment like this would have made her feel bored in the old days. In her old_ life_. Now it was simply a much needed slow down of a world always seeming to spiral out of control. She padded around in her pajamas, stopped flinching at lights and sounds because none of them suddenly manifested, and she finally _felt_ hungry. She headed to the fridge.

In an hour, Dawn came home, carrying a big bag of candles in one arm and a box of crystals in the other. "These promote relaxing and healing. And they smell _so _good." She smiled at her sister, still in her pjs, eating her fourth bowl of cereal.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Buffy licked a frosted marshmallow bit off her lip and dug through the bag Dawn sat in front of her. "Bubble bath, too."

"That's from Tara. She said it has witch hazel extract for healing." The teenager paused. "Are you- do you hurt all the time?" She asked, hands flexing nervously on themselves.

_Lie to her. She's so young, and she's my responsibility to take care of._ "N-" _Do I really want to lie to one more person?_ "Not so much today." She answered, realizing it was the truth.

Dawn nodded, moving around her, setting out the pretty pink and purple crystals, making a small circle with them. "From where you were?"

_Why does she sound like that? If Spike told her, I'm going to kill him._ Buffy opened her mouth, only to find Dawn's words supplanting her own.

"Or from being here?"

She struggled to find an answer. "Remember what I said? The hardest-"

"-thing to do in this world is live in it." Dawn gave her a quizzical look, but didn't press her on what she'd indicated. "Today is better though?" She asked with a timid lilt in her voice.

Buffy considered, the acquiesced. "Today was better though."

* * *

The night went the same as the day, quietly. Spike appeared around dusk, and informed her he'd kept watch until he heard her wake up and begin to move around. Then he'd left so she wouldn't have to worry about house guests. He would patrol and then come back later that night, if wanted.

"Not that you can't look after yourself." He winked, trying to keep the tone brash and blustery, for the sake of appearances.

Dawn was heating up leftover Chinese for dinner. She purposely left the living room where her sister and the vampire were talking.

"I'd like it. I- uh- I liked having the time alone today. But I can be alone with you here." She gave him a glimmer of a smile, echoing the words she'd said in the alley.

He beamed. "Hurts a little less, maybe?"

"Maybe." She nodded, then shivered. "You don't realize how cold this life is until you're always perfectly snug, you know?" She tried to laugh it off.

_I could keep you warm. Well- room temperature. No. I could do warm. For her, I could make her feel hot tingles covering every pretty inch. Don't say that, you idiot, let's conflict her and confuse her even more. _"Yeah... I know what you mean. I don't much mind the temperature myself." He wanted to say so many things, about how he could warm her, wrap her up, give her that loved, snug feeling- but you don't always win with the brash moves. Not with her. No, he'd tried that. Bloody sucked out loud. "I'll be back later then. An' I can always bring my old friend JD. He warms most people up a treat."

She cracked a smile. "Save it for yourself. You're the one who's going to earn it."

He all but floated from the house. _She thinks I can do it. She still has some faith in me._

* * *

The next day and night passed the same but with a few changes. Buffy soaked in a bubble bath ringed with candles until the wicks sputtered in the wax and she looked like a prune in its late eighties. She napped. She bathed in the silence and the ability to turn her brain off and know that everyone she loved was safe. She didn't know with the certainty heaven had offered, but she had a confidence that between their own resourcefulness, Willow's power, and Spike's watchful eye, they could make it through the day.

She also had an uncomfortable realization. Heaven was beautiful, yet it had made her believe one lie. She had known she was finished, but she'd believed all her loved ones were okay. The world she'd come flying back into had not been okay in the slightest. She simply wouldn't have known what was happening to them in heaven, but it would still be happening.

_Ignorance is bliss. I earned my bliss._

_ Still..._

Buffy firmly shook her head, erasing the conundrum. _People survived without me, they had for years before me, they would have for years after me. I'm supposed to be in heaven, but I'm not. There's no way to leave that doesn't hurt them again. _

_ If I could just make it stop hurting for me at the same time... That'd be a good start. It wouldn't be fair, but it wouldn't suck so much._

When Willow called later that day to check in on her, she said she was starting to feel better. That was honest. _This is only a start._

_ God, I hope it's a short trip to wherever I'm going._

* * *

Spike and Dawn were the only ones she saw, but she didn't see them much. At night her sister was present, and they ate dinner together, and then just moved around the house in companionable and relative quiet. When Spike arrived later, silence lost its hold, but the conversations were- peaceful. No expectations put on her, no lies needing to be kept up. He didn't talk about patrols or plans, he talked about Dawn's cooking ability and helped her with her homework, rambled about his stupid soap opera, and whether or not he could use the washer and dryer in the basement to do a load of his laundry.

Buffy was lying on the couch during some of this back and forth.

"The chemicals in that-"

"You smoke!"

"I'm dead already!"

"Do you even know how to cook?"

A voice beginning to raise, "Why would I-"

"Shhh! Buffy's trying to read."

A snarky comment restrained with an effort. "You can't keep livin' on things that come out of cardboard."

"What do your smokes come in, wiseass?"

"Oi! Pretty little girls shouldn't have words like that comin' out of their-"

A giggling but annoying taunt of, "Sexist, chauvinistic b-"

"Mouth! Dawn!"

When they passed by the living room a few minutes later, Buffy was asleep, remnants of an amused smile on her face.

* * *

_ Giles will be home tomorrow. So Tara and Willow will be coming back here. Xander called and said he hoped you had a nice "home-spa" treatment. So. Enjoy your last day off. For now. We can do this again whenever you need a break. Spike said he's going to keep doing most of the patrolling until you want to to get back in the saddle. Which is totally a cowboy thing and so doesn't make sense. But it's still nice. _

_ Take lots of bubble baths, and use your crystals and candles, and don't open the bottom drawer in the fridge. I'm making dinner and it's a surprise._

Buffy put Dawn's note down on the kitchen island. Heaviness dropped upon her shoulders like a lead cape. Back to the real world tomorrow...

She headed upstairs, to take her sister's advice. She didn't realize that the dreary feeling falling on her afresh meant that there had been times, not just seconds, hours, where she hadn't been in pain. She sighed.

_Alright. I'm back. I'm back, and I'm not going to go away again. _

_ There are things I didn't miss, but that I'm glad to see again... y'know. Since I'm here. _Dawn's face flashed in front of her, followed by Willow's, Xander's, Tara and Anya's, then Dawn's again. A long lingering image of a bleached blonde, his hand on her knee. Hard edges blurring away.

_One thing at a time. Maybe it'll be okay._

* * *

She woke up from her afternoon snooze slowly, blinking. Sounds drifted up, but her senses didn't do the usual screaming, full throttle alarm she'd thought was a permanent part of being alive again. She eased herself up, a puzzled grimace on her face as she pushed the door open.

"-even cook?" Dawn's voice sounded mildly piqued.

"Can I use a microwave?" The snarking scoff with its English overtones instantly shot back.

Apologetically, "Oh yeah, I guess I should've known that you-"

"No, Bit. Literally, _can_ I use the microwave on this or not?"

Buffy shut the door and scrambled into her comfiest jeans and a loose top. She didn't look in the mirror, but if she had, she would have seen a wiggling little smile trying to escape onto her face. _I have to see this._

* * *

"Two shallow dishes. One flour. One egg and milk. Now what?"

"Dip into one then the other."

Buffy peeked around the kitchen doorway.

"This isn't working."

"Egg first! Niblet, it has to stick and the wet makes the flour coat it."

"Smarty vamp. What are you using?"

"Olive oil."

"You don't use olive oil, use the canola oil."

"It says 'vegetable oil' in the book."

"It's an old book, Mom had it when she got married."

"But an olive is a vegetable and a canola- what the hell _is_ a canola, is that a flower?"

"I think it's a seed."

Buffy watched the unlikely pair standing beside each other over the sink, dishes on Dawn's side, a cook book on Spike's.

"This is so icky. Chicken is slimy."

"I'm not doin' it. I'll gut you a demon and get you a severed head, but don't ask me to handle the chicken until it's in the fire."

"A- that makes no sense, big tough vamp afraid of a dead bird, B- you're flammable, and C- you've been alive like ten times longer than me. Why don't you know how to cook? You were human, humans eat."

"A- I'm not scared. B- it was an expression, and C- Men didn't cook unless they were cooks in my day, they had wives, mothers, and servants to do it for 'em."

"What did you have?"

"A servant. Few actually. A nice cook, made this amazin' glazed ham every Christmas. But the point bein', my food usually comes out of a neck, and if not for this chip, and wanting to prove to your sis I really _have_ changed, I wouldn't even have to use the _kitchen_. Be happy I know how to microwave and gimme that bowl."

Spike seized the now breaded chicken and turned to the stove, stopping short as he saw their audience of one. "Sod." He hadn't wanted to disturb her, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to hear everything he'd just said.

"Did we wake you?" Dawn asked apologetically.

"Not really." Buffy shrugged. "But boy am I glad to be down here for this. Is that the famous Fourth of July chicken recipe?"

"The best friend chicken in the world recipe- yeppers." Dawn held up her gooey, floury hands. "I didn't give Mom enough credit. This stuff is messy to make."

"But apparently it's your favorite." Spike moved to a deep skillet filled with oil. "Stand back, this might pop a bit." He emptied the bowl into the oil.

Screeches and yelps broke out. "A few pieces at a time! You said you read the instructions!" Dawn screeched.

"Stand back, stand back!" Spike waved and shooed at the two of them.

"Where are the tongs, the long metal ones?" Buffy ran to a drawer.

"Never mind that, turn down the stove!" Dawn swatted at Spike, who obeyed, turning it completely off.

The three figures, one splashed with hot fat, one covered in batter, and one wide eyed and trying not laugh, surveyed each other. "Wow. Is there potato salad too?" Buffy asked cheerfully.

"I think making that's been banned under the Geneva Convention, fried chicken amendment." Spike prodded the mass in the skillet with a fork. "Potato chips instead?"

"I have barbecue flavored and sour cream and onion." Dawn offered.

"Sounds good." Buffy jumped in easily, flawlessly.

Things felt normal enough that she didn't even have to stop and consider if they were "normal" or not.

Spike noticed the way she moved around them, seamlessly, unhesitatingly, shoulders up, head up, eyes moving naturally. No more pained look. No more haunted air. Oh, he wasn't stupid enough to think she was "all better". _It's a start though. One place isn't hell on earth for her anymore. One person_- he watched her and Dawn flipping through the cookbook- right before she came up to him, holding it out, talking away, pointing to the part of the directions he'd neglected to read- or _maybe _two_ people- left in this world that she can stand to be around._

* * *

"I'll wash those." Spike took the bowl and spoon from her hand, then gently disengaged Dawn's fingers from the edge of her bowl as well. "If I'd known chocolate sundaes made her sleepy I'd have started buyin' ice cream in bulk. She's a powerhouse, your sister."

Buffy followed him through the now darkened house. Dinner was eaten, dessert was resting uncomfortably on second and thirds of food she'd thought she no longer craved or needed. "Sugar crash. She'll be up again in like twenty minutes."

"Tell her I said goodnight, will you, Luv?" He loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and hit the switch.

"Oh, you're leaving?" Her emotions, so closed over, made themselves known. She didn't like this thought, a nagging piece of her half-alive heart said it'd prefer him to be around. Not too close, not even speaking. Just nearby.

"I don't have to." Spike turned to her, leaning against the counter, watching her mimic him, leaning against the island.

"I-" She swallowed a funny pain in her throat. "I needed the break."

"I know that." He smiled softly.

"Yeah, well... you two were the only ones who saw it. And I'm betting you're the one who helped her put it from 'seeing' to 'being'." Buffy murmured.

He shrugged. "She and I get on."

"Understatement." Buffy's own smile peeped out.

Silence held sway, two figures shifting, uncertain.

"Was this part of your game?" Buffy cocked her head.

"Hm?" Eyebrows arching questioningly.

"The 'make it better' game. The one you said you wanted to play. Who can make the other the happiest?"

"It was, sort of, Slayer." He reminded her, "I told you I couldn't make you happy. I just wanted it to stop hurting for a bit."

"It did." She stepped closer to him, safe in this small space, a few feet where it was dim and soft, warm enough, even though he was cold. She shivered again. Even though they both were. "I do. Feel better."

"Well done." He congratulated them both, nostrils flaring slightly as her scent danced closer to him, wishing she'd move back, or move all the way into his arms.

"You get the shot." She grinned with something of her old spark, making his dead heart leap.

"I'll take it." He grinned back, a cocky little bob of his head accompanying his words. "You're up next." His tongue tucked behind his teeth as the grin turned to a broad smirk, for a moment able to see the woman he'd bantered with, the cat to his mouse and the mouse to his cat.

She lost the glimmer of liveliness instantly and he could barely hear her words over the cursing in his own head. "I can't play. I can't take a turn."

"I- It was just somethin' to say, Buffy. I don't expect you to-"

"I can't make you happy." She puffed out in a rush. "It's not fair to pretend this is like that night in your crypt, where all it was was little glasses and big sob stories. You're doing a lot for me, and I just-" she looked at her folded arms, "I don't have anything to give right now. So. Can't take a turn."

Spike's voice was quiet, with an undercurrent that made it border on tremulous. "You don't see it. You came to me. You trusted me again. You talked to me an' told me-" he stopped short of repeating the horribly sad confession, " you told me. You're talking to me at all!" He wanted to swoop her up and hug her, so instead he tightened his powerful hands on his own crossed arms, gripping and clenching to try and prevent himself from busting into joyous shouting. He had to take two deep breaths, unneeded of course, but just to buy him time, to give him a second to settle.

"You make me so happy, just be bein' here. It's not even a contest really, but well- I'm one of those stubborn types, an' you know I like to play, even if I won't win."

_He's so happy and all I have to do is be what I am, where I am. Fall apart on him, he doesn't care. He could make me happy. Maybe. One day. In some little way, enough for him to... _She curtailed the train of thoughts, that always elusive happy ending she wouldn't get. She didn't need it, but just some happiness, any..._ It doesn't matter _how _he does it. It matters that he _could_._ "I didn't say you wouldn't win. I- I mean I'm not ready. I can't be 'up next'." She copied his words. "Not fair."

"Life isn't fair. Don't we know that, you an' me?" He brushed her elbow with a hesitant hand, lingering until she looked up at him. "This is a new life, new world, new game, new rules. It's okay to pass."

_It's okay to pass_. She bit her lip to choke down the laughing sob that wanted to bubble up._ Seriously, do you mean maybe I could skip being the hero girl every now and again? Or just be a slacker? Just be human? Not all the time, but sometimes... I could take a vacation from myself and this life. Even from something simple like this. _

Spike watched her move his hand, trying not jump when she touched him first this time. She flipped it over slowly, one hand under it, one hand hovering over the open palm. The airborne hand clutched something invisible, and then she pressed it into his palm. "Pass."

He smiled. Invisible dice. He curled his hand around hers, as if to take them from her. She didn't pull away, just rested there, warm hand in his.

Her touch made him ache and tingle in a way that was- surprisingly- not lustful. He didn't want to say anything more, merely let her rest on her last night off. He nodded and slowly separated their skin. She shut the back porch door after him.

Spike hummed as he jauntily sauntered down the street, hearing her heartbeat and voice in his ears, feeling her palm still in his though they were apart. "Pass? Sod that. You win that round, Princess."

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: Sometimes we have to heal, we have to get through stages before we can get to the "happy places". Thanks for your patience. Also, remember I've left canon for the most part now, so if you're expecting certain events to happen- don't hold your breath._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius 120, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, and Teddybear-514._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part V**

Had Spike not known about her secret, he might've pushed the "game" along faster and more determinedly. As it was, he did know, and therefore, he had to move nice and steady, the good hunter he was, always checking for signs, eyes and ears open. He was no longer looking for paltry little things to make her happy, the things he'd thought of during the time she was gone. A box of chocolates with peanut butter centers, Dawn said she loved those the most, or bright bouquets of flowers, she loved those too, but she'd only ever gotten reds, pink, and whites. Giving her a shopping spree on her own because Dawn'd once said Buffy was always complaining she never got to go anywhere fun without her tagging along. See, if they'd have just let him help when he wanted to the first time, before he screwed up so fatally, he and Bit could have hit the arcade and Slayer could have bought herself into a coma. Just as long as some of it was lacy. Or silky. Or- _Dammit, down boy._

The vampire collected his thoughts and his physical control and headed from the basement of his crypt to the moonlit topside, shaking his head. Those little trinkets wouldn't help just now. Stage one was to settle in, start to heal. Can't be happy if you're in that much pain.

He just wished it'd ease faster.

Well, time to check on the progress. Watcher was back in town, finally giving her a strong parent figure to lean on, for _all _of them to lean on, bless his poor nearsighted heart. _Maybe they'll stop lookin' at Buffy like she's the messiah comin' home again, an' start to get things back in proportion. Then maybe she will, too. _

As it was now- not so bad.

She appeared in his crypt for an hour or two of soaking in silence most days, they patrolled together at night, and didn't say much then, either. The friends got on with their lives, Dawn got on with school. There was one thing that had changed, though. Instead of Buffy and Dawn seeming to be at odds every time he turned around, each trying to ditch the other for time with some of the gang or just be away from the other- now they seemed content to sit at home, simply being together whenever possible.

_Well, at least Niblet gets what she wanted. The whole time Slayer was gone, all she wished was that she'd been a better sister, shown her, told her, been more honest about things instead of hiding in her head, writing in her journals, doubting Buffy's love. Silly girl. Slayer loves until she- _His steps faltered as he crossed the street, heading to her home, _can't love anymore. _That was what she'd told him, even before she died, during the final round of their "drown the sorrows" match. Afraid to love, afraid to want to, simply afraid of the pain associated with the concept.

_ I don't care if she's broken an' it can't be "fixed". I don't have to have her love. _He was an expert at loving without getting it back._ I just have to have her better, happier, healed. Can't you let me have that? _He looked up at the October sky over her house._ Alright, alright, I get it. Don't push, you gave her back to me, I should be grateful just to have her here. _

He knocked on the front door and concentrated on that thought. _Grateful to have her here. Even if she's still in the shadowy part of herself, more subdued-_

"How much? Three _thousand_ dollars!?" Buffy's voice screeched wildly as the door swung open.

"Uh- bad time?" Spike asked Dawn as she motioned him inside.

"There's a plumbing issue." Dawn hissed and tugged him across the threshold.

"How bad?" Spike muttered under the cry of,

"Copper is cheap! Melt pennies!"

"Buffy, even if we melted pennies- think about how many pennies that would be to do a full copper refit!" Xander cried back. "About three thousand dollars worth!"

"Oh. That bad." Spike sniffed in under his breath.

"Your cot is floating in knee deep water." Dawn explained.

"Damn."

"No kidding."

Xander's voice tried to calm down the irate woman before him. "I got you a deal, and a couple of my guys can do the work for half price."

"That's not the major concern. _These_ are the major concerns." Anya spoke up and handed Buffy a large brown file folder.

"What are-" Buffy's face, already thin and pale, paled further as she pulled out a handful of envelopes. The kind with a clear window, each of them bearing large red letters and sickly pink paper visible on the inside. "Why didn't you tell me?" She gasped.

"What's going on?" Spike stepped up, stepped in.

Tara and Willow turned in surprise. Buffy turned and for a second he saw something he would have never believed. Relief flashed in her eyes at the sight of his face.

"Um. We've been trying to handle them since- you were gone, but um..." Willow took the envelopes from Buffy's hand with a glare at Anya. "We're helping, but-"

"Fall tuition." Tara twisted her hands nervously, coming to Buffy's other side. "Th-then the pl-plumbing had a few p-patch jobs in August..."

"Oh my God. How bad is this? What are all those?" Buffy shrugged out of Willow and Tara's comforting arms and seized the bills, looking at Anya.

"Power, water, cable, homeowner's insurance-"

"Honey, maybe this was the wrong time?" Xander said, hands on his girlfriend's shoulders.

"This is the _only_ time, 'cause we have a month."

"A month? As in a few weeks?"

"I suggest charging for slaying." Anya said brightly.

"Are we gonna lose the house?" Dawn's scared little voice piped up. The tone in the room changed dramatically.

"No!" Tara shook her head. "Joyce's- your mom... th-there's money every month, and your dad's child support check helps takes care of it, too. We're all going to help out. It'll be f-fine."

"It'll be fine." Buffy moved to Dawn and hugged her protectively. "I'm going to take care of this. Okay?"

"Okay." Dawn whispered, nodding, face and voice completely in disagreement with her words.

Buffy swallowed down the panic she was feeling and smiled with fake confidence. "I'll tackle this as soon as we come back from patrol."

"We can handle patrol." Willow said quickly.

"Honey- your chemistry paper." Tara softly reminded her partner. "You're already a day late..."

"I need help with my geometry, too." Dawn looked towards Willow and Tara.

Xander rolled up his sleeves. "I'm going to get the sump pump running..."

Amid the disjointed, multi-directional conversation, Buffy disappeared out the front door, Spike following her.

* * *

As soon as she was outside, the door shut tight, her head crashed back against it with a groan.

"Why don't you let me do it tonight?" A voice so low it was like the rustle of silk.

_Hmm?_ _Do what? _Several fleeting images, not her typical thoughts, plagued her briefly._ Where the heck are those thoughts coming from?_ Buffy's eyes flew open. "What?"

"You have all this stuff goin' on at home, I can do a sweep an' be back in a few hours to help Wonder Plumber do his thing."

She licked her lips, trying to marshall up the courage to do the right thing, go back in and face the problems. Or was going out and killing the evil scum of a Hellmouth "the right thing"? _Be the homeowner, be the head of the household, be the Slayer, be the Chosen One... in heaven I was just _there_. And it was done. No more problems._

They were down to the sidewalk now, her tortured brain running in a circle before it finally hit the wall. She halted, just past the hedge, frozen. "I can't do this. I can't do _any_ of this tonight."

Spike watched in horror as the lower lip broke in half, drawn up and pushed out, heralding the beginnings of tears. _Oh God. Oh God, she's crying, what am I s'posed to do? What I want to do, or what she needs me to do? What the bloody hell is the need?_

For once, their wants and needs seemed to be in the same place at the same time.

He moved to her, arms fanning out, and she turned and smacked into his chest, sobbing, arms going around him convulsively.

It was supposed to have been the most glorious moment. The moment he felt her soft body against his hard and lean one, and instead he felt sick inside. He'd stopped being so angry with the Scooby Set, and was now sort of brassed off at the cosmos. Who the hell lets some mojoed up witch pull an angel out of heaven, even if she does know the right spells and the right ingredients?

_She should be crying because her mum is dead, or her heaven is gone, and what's she crying over? 'Cause she has a house full of broken pipes and a stack of unpaid bills, and she's supposed to be on call to save the world. Of course she can't do that, who the hell can?_

"If you can't do it... then we jus' won't do it. That's all. Simple." He murmured, and pulled her shoulders back, standing her up, despite the fact that he could've held onto her forever.

"It's not like that!" The spitfire was back in her eyes, angry, but not at him. "If I don't do something we're going to have the power turned off and the water shut off- and if I don't slay, the world gets overrun with demon bikers and the town turns into a war zone and hell gods come and attack your sister and-"

"Whoa. Whoa, Slayer-"

"Don't 'whoa' me!" She flung her arms out, again, still not mad at him, but venting. "How could this happen?"

She was storming off now, and he trotted after her, not knowing the answer, and kicking himself. _Why hadn't he seen this coming? Because he was too damn steeped in his own guilt, remorse, and grief cocktail, that's why. Maybe they had been too. And Dawn, all of them trying to suddenly step up and be "parents" in different ways, and all of them good at different parts of it- and- hell._ There were all the excuses in the world and none of them solved the damn problem. "Slayer, wait."

She shook her head, fighting down resentment with every step. _How could they leave this big of a mess for me to come back to? I'm not even supposed to _be_ here, and now I'm supposed to _fix_ it? What kind of crappy deal is that?_ "How could they- how could they have this huge problem and not do anything about it? What if I hadn't come back?" She whirled to face him as they reached the end of the block, now hissing at him furiously under a tree on the corner.

"Then we'd have dealt with it." He said firmly, knowing it was true.

"Really? Because it seems like so much stuff is left for me to do, and I'm not technically supposed to be able to do any of it!" She glared. "Power and water turned off? Then the cable, then insurance, then- all those other things still in that folder." She blanched. "My sister could have been homeless!"

His own voice gathered an edge. "That's not true. Because none of them would have let that happen. Ever. I don't always get on with your lot, but they love her and they'd die for her-" _Oh bloody buggerin' fuck... any other phrase at all you could have used, but no... _"I mean nothin' bad would ever happen to her if any of them could avoid it. Me, too. I'd always look after her." _Right, she'll feel real confident about that, you who let some scrawny doctor push you off the tower and slice Dawn up._ "An' if it was the best for her, I s'pose-" his throat felt oddly tight and he knew it shouldn't, "we'd send her to live with your dad an' visit all the time." _Bit hated that idea. She had hysterics at the mention. I did too, inside. Failed once to protect her, didn't want to let her out of my sight. I'd have moved to LA. Sharing a city with Angel... oh, the horror. But if you have to, you have to. Just another penance for failing the first time._

Buffy, of course couldn't hear Spike's inner musings, but his words had given her fodder for another freak out, her anger growing. This was the first time, though she didn't realize it, that she'd felt this fury. She'd felt nothing. Then she'd wept bitterly for all she'd lost. And now- it was a good thing her eyes couldn't really shoot flames or Spike would have been dust. "Send her to live with my dad? She's never actually even _met _him, he hasn't visited in- wait, did he visit while I was gone?"

"No." Spike murmured.

"He hasn't visited in two years! Dawn would live with a stranger! No- a stranger's housekeeper or a nanny or something, because my father is too busy to even come to his wife's_ funeral_, so I know there is no way in hell he'd manage to make it home for _dinner_ or to see his _only daughter_!" _Oh. Was that a Freudian slip? No, 'cause technically Dawn was the only daughter in this situation. Psychology stuff would have been so much easier to remember if I hadn't had the hunky TA and the evil professor, plus a big monster to kill during my class..._

Spike nodded. _Oh, so true. So true for both of his "only daughters" at the times when he had only one, before Dawn, after Buffy. And the pillock didn't even know it, 'cause he was never around._ "Alright, all good points. Maybe Giles wouldn't have left, or if he left he would've come back, but all this would've gotten taken care of. Dawn would be safe. Maybe it's only so screwed up, 'cause they were more focused on gettin' you back into the world than what was goin' on _in_ it."

Her rage died down, but left a cold bitterness in its wake. "I hate them for this." She whispered to herself more than him, hugging herself tightly, unable to really understand the thought she'd just had, the words she'd felt pass her lips almost of their own accord.

He was stunned, too. His instinct was to deny it for her, talk her back to the point where she didn't mean that. Instead he heard himself saying, "So tell them. Tell 'em what's wrong, tell 'em why?"

"No." She said quickly, urgently shaking her head.

_Tread carefully. _"Why not?"

"I-" Buffy struggled to sort out so many levels of emotions until she could explain this complex mess. But the words came out as something plain and simple. "I still love them."

Now he walked on land mines as he spoke. "You hate what they did. But you still love them?"

"It's not so hard to believe." She defended herself with a guilty flash, guilty for experiencing two such emotional extremes, and different parts of her warring that she should feel one and not the other. "People do it all the time, people screw up and you don't stop- loving- them..." She slowed and then trailed off altogether, trying to process her own explanation.

"True. I know firsthand, Pet." Now he touched the verbal detonator and waited to see if he blew up or not. "Maybe you have to forgive 'em."

Ka-boom. No more vague expression and dreamy eyed contemplation. "Forgive them? I just got to the point where I accept, no, _tolerate,_ that I'm _alive_, and I'm supposed to _forgive_ them for ripping me out of _heaven_?"

"I know it sounds-"

She was aghast, wouldn't let him finish. "How can you say that? You're the only one who even understands a little and-"

"I don't know." He confessed, cutting her off with an exhausted exhalation, eyes closing wearily. "God knows I don't forgive 'em, an' I'm just pissed on your behalf."

Her eyes narrow slits of anger funneled out on the nearest hapless bystander, she demanded, "Don't even, Spike. You're a demon, what would you know about forgiveness?"

He almost bridled, remnants of old spats and verbal skirmishes unearthed by her tone, only to remind himself how much he'd missed this, longed for this. To hear her voice, even if it was arguing with him. 'Cause that was usual. That was the old way, and he wanted something better, yet he was glad to have something to build on. That's what made him an expert on forgiveness. "I know, Buffy." He started in a somber voice that refused to be riled. Her eyes opened fully and studied him. He didn't blame her. No one saw him calm. Until her. Until she was gone, until she was back. Passion was still there, but it had learned to speak softly.

"Waited almost half a year, prayed every day that if I ever got the chance to apologize- you'd forgive me. Not only for not savin' Dawn." He fastened his eyes to hers, dared himself not to look away, to fight his nature and inclination to be what he was, evil and liking it. Didn't want that anymore. "Or you. For _everything_." He had a long list of grievances he wanted washed away by her words, but he kept them in check, watching her eyes spiral inside themselves, taking her back to some tricky spot in her mind.

"How am I supposed to say it's okay?" She whispered desperately. It wasn't a challenge, it was a plea for him to show her.

She_ would_ ask him. When he hadn't fully worked it out himself. Fortunately, he was exceedingly glib, and he played to his strengths. "Do you think they knew? Do you think for one _second_ they did it to hurt you- and before you shout at me, I know it sounds stupid and pointless after the fact, but I've had to ask myself the same things. Don't you think I wanted to kill 'em all, the second I realized what they'd done to the person I love most-" _Shit. _He rolled quickly past that remark. "Don't you think I was mad, too?"

There were truths in that sentence, but so what? How could he think his anger measured the same as hers? "Not mad like this, Spike. This was done _to me_." Her fist curled over her heart. "I put up with so much. I died. Twice. I went to heaven once, and then suddenly-" The hand curled deeper into her shirt, over her aching, angry heart, "I didn't know anything hurt like this, and I've been hurt. _A lot_."

He sighed deeply. "I know that. You could tell 'em off, never see 'em again..." His voice tempted. Her face took on a stubborn, closed over cast. "But you don't want to do that." He'd know that. Known that all along or he would have stolen the first car he'd seen, tucked her and Dawn into it, and driven clear to the other side of the country. She'd never have had to see them again. If that's what she wanted...

Buffy's answer came out slowly and quietly, fist loosening. "No. I don't want to do that."

Well, the verbal bomb hadn't blown him sky high, just rattled him a bit. So he pressed once more. "Why?" He challenged, almost sneered. "Because you owe them one? 'Cause you think they did right?"

She fired back on instinct. "Because they're my friends and I love them and I-" The explosive reply died down to something steady and plodding, but unshakably sure. "I want to _be_ with them. This life _sucks_. But it's sucked for me for six years, almost a third of my life, Spike." She gave a helpless laugh that held no mirth. "The times with them... with Giles... That's been the only part that didn't suck. Even before, when I was 'normal', I never had friends like that. I love them." The anger was there, but it was tempered now. "I love them enough that I don't want to leave them, and I don't want to hurt them. Don't want to tell them."

She dropped her gaze from his, tucked her chin to her chest as the weight of love and hate struggled to get the only seat on her shoulders. She turned away and set off into the night, knowing he'd follow her.

He did. He waited until they were crossing into Restfield before he spoke again. "If you're not ready to tell, an' you still love' em, not gonna hate 'em, even for all this-" he licked his pale lips, "you could just- 'let it go'." She turned to him, pretty lips drawn back in a faint snarl of disbelief, words ready to fly out at him. He quelled them. "No, Slayer, don't ask how you could do that. It's just what you can do. You larger than life types, and just _you_. You don't want to be here, and I don't know why the universe does this shit to you, but you're back again." He reached for his lighter and smokes, feeling her gaze piercing through him, needing to find something for his hands to do, or he'd never spit it out, not with those eyes on him. "Maybe there's a reason, or maybe it's just cause Red is better than we ever gave her credit for- but _you _are _good_. You are what good looks like, what good_ is. _Maybe your heart doesn't feel it these days, but you are." He put the cigarette in his mouth, trembling fingers holding the slim cylinder steady as he poured out all the encouragement he had. Because she had to keep fighting, and she had to get back to who she really was. Not for him, but because _she_ deserved it. Then a little happiness on top. Yes, she deserved it, and if you doubted why? See above.

He swept on, "Good people sometimes can do surprising stuff the rest of the world would never be able to even _think_ of, let alone succeed at. If anyone can forgive, or ignore, or let go- it's you, Buffy."

She was just staring at him when he looked back up at her, cigarette now lit, but smoking idly in his hand. He hurriedly took a drag, and coughed bashfully. _Encouragement, yes, all well and good. Mushy speech? Prob'ly not the thing at the moment._ "Sorry. Got wrapped up there for a second."

She did, too. Pleasantly wrapped up, surprised and a little wigged, but over all pleased. See, when her friends said nice things, well- that was part of being a friend. When Spike said something- he just wanted to say it, he meant it. It didn't even have anything to do with the monster-sized crush he had on her. Which she was beginning to see wasn't a "crush" at all. The thing about Spike was, he could have just as easily said she was angry and evil and awful... and he loved her anyway. So when he poured out a book's worth of thoughts about how good she was? It was probably true.

But tell any twenty year old girl to believe the best of themselves and they have a struggle. "You really think I'm like that? You think all that about me?" She whispered.

He nodded, still concentrating on his menthol. "All I think about is you. So yeah, an' I'm right, too. I'm an expert on you."

Her stock denial didn't seem to exist anymore. Maybe it had died, too, and never been brought back. "Yeah, you are." Her eyes skated away from his and she sighed, head tossing restlessly back.

"I hate what they _did_. But I don't hate_ them_. I know one day, I'll have to tell them. Some day. Not soon. For now..." The restless head ceased its study of the night sky with another, even deeper sigh. Her heart seemed to life, something bad slipping out of it. "Let go. Forgive. At least try."

He nodded, his own mind awash with envious thoughts, desperately covetous thoughts. To have her forgiveness... Was it always going to be denied? Or maybe it was there, just never mentioned, even though he so badly wanted to hear it, to absolve him just a bit? _They can tear her from eternity, but I screwed up an' got her sent there..._ Was it the size of the sins, or just who he was, versus who they were? Her constant friends outweighing the former enemy? How long would he wait, and would it ever happen? He didn't know. _But I guess I'll just wait as long as it takes. She is extraordinary. Something extraordinary might happen. A vampire falls for a slayer- an angel might forgive a demon._

He was about to pick up the pace again when her hand touched his elbow and her fingers bunched in the supple worn leather, keeping him beside her. "Except for one person." Buffy couldn't believe she was saying it, but it felt so right, so suddenly overwhelmingly right, that she forced herself not to second guess or over think. What little mantra kept popping up in her head tonight? With Spike, always use your instincts... "You I can forgive right now." The enormity of the words made her tongue clumsy, but she continued. "For- for anything you're sorry for."

Spike blinked in shock, and laughed in delighted surprise when she perched on her toes to let her lips brush lightly, chastely to his cheek, just at the corner of his mouth.

She was surprised when wetness hit her cheek- a single tear he was blinking away as he suddenly couldn't stop his smile from glowing through the night. _Oh wow. He's so... _pretty_...when he's happy like that. _Her own beaming grin broke out of its prison.

_Dear God- she's smiling. A real smile. At me._ He ran a hand over her cheek tentatively, and the smile didn't budge. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

_I made him smile- for real._

_ I made her smile- for real._

The moment seemed to suspend itself and drag on happily. In time, like it was perfectly natural, they moved together, taking a step, then another, and they were off on the hunt again, still smiling, still wallowing in inner joy. During most of the night, they didn't bother to talk. The smiles never faded away, though they dimmed at times, surged at others.

When he walked her back to the house, she seemed calmer, quietly resolute. She flashed him a smile over her shoulder as she slipped inside with a soft "Night, Spike. See you tomorrow."

He nodded and waved, swung himself around jauntily, if at a slower pace. He didn't think they made words for the emotion he felt- something between a high, being drunk, and filled with absolutely pure happiness.

_I don't know if that counts as a turn but if it did- I say it's a tie. That smile... That smile is worth more than anything you can buy. _

_ But it was probably gone now, wiped off by the stack of bills and the damned basement's damned plumbing. _

Images of her smile were burned onto him like an invisible brand. He had to keep it there, had to keep it coming back. Ties were not good enough.

_Hm._ He paused outside her house before slipping around the back, plans forming, discarding, and jostling for consideration as he asked himself, "Now how am I gonna tip the scales?"

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: From a developmental standpoint, most theorists agree that basic needs must be met- food, shelter, safety- before humans can move onto the more "insubstantial" elements of life. So- a little more of healing first, happiness second. Thanks for your patience. Also, remember I've left canon for the most part now, so if you're expecting certain events to happen- don't hold your breath._

_Author's second note: This was supposed to be a short story. I think I've passed short at this point, and I'm not done. To those of you who know me, this will come as no great surprise..._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, haleycc, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, and Teddybear-514._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part VI**

"Niblet?" Spike looked around furtively from his perch outside her window.

Dawn rolled over in her sleep.

"Damn." Spike eased open her window. He'd had to wait outside for a while until he could tell all four of the house's occupants were asleep. Now he hoped by waking one up, he wouldn't wake all of them. "Dawn?"

Dawn sat up with a gasp, hand immediately going under her pillow to where she kept holy water and a stake. She never pulled either item out however, once her senses focused and she recognized the low whisper,

"It's me."

"You're not gonna start this Angelus crap, are you?" Dawn whined in a whisper, letting out a trembly breath she'd been holding.

"Sorry to scare you, Bit, an' hell no. I tried the downstairs window but it was locked. I called outside here a few times, then decided I should pop my head in." He kept his eyes darting around, keen ears listening for sounds of alertness. Slayer's heartbeat sped up, then settled down again. "You know those bills Anya showed your sister?"

Dawn's eyebrows arched up. "What about them?"

"Can you show 'em to me?"

She got a puzzled smile on her face. "What are you going to do?"

"Maybe nothing. I jus' wanna see some figures. I'd ask Buffy, but I didn't think of it 'til she was asleep. An' from the sounds of it, we don't have time to waste."

Dawn slid out of bed and tiptoed in front of him, leading the way downstairs. It was fortunate the two people moving about in the silent house were the only ones Buffy had felt attuned to, gotten used to during her little recovery break. The Slayer slept on and two figures flipped through papers in the darkened dining room.

Spike mumbled as he ran some calculations in his head. Not horrible, not really. Few hundred dollars behind for each, but that's how big companies were. You don't pay for a service for a few months and it's the end of the deal. And looking it all at once, he could see how Demon Gal was in a panic. She would be, wouldn't she? Money and the capitalist system was her new obsession. Frankly, he thought she should have stuck to vengeance, but... _Oh well, we all change for love._ "This isn't bad."

"Are you kidding? There are thousands of dollars of bills there, plus the plumbing!"

"Yeah, I know, but it's only so bad 'cause you're lookin' at all of this all at once. Take the home owner's insurance, and you owe them six hundred, 'missed the quarterly payment. But the cable- well that's only one fifty out." He separated them, trying to parse it down, soothe her worries. "We just take one chunk at a time. Everyone pitches in, and we'll be okay."

"I don't think I can pitch in too much. I mean, I can say we can get rid of cable, but-"

"You worry about school an' lovin' your sister. That's what makes her the happiest."

Dawn flashed him a smile. "I think _you_ make her pretty happy, too." He beamed, ducked his head. Dawn gawked. "If you could blush, you so would be."

"Yeah." He admitted in a sheepish, almost goofy voice.

Dawn put her hands on her hips. "Alright, now I know I'm dreaming. 'Cause Spike doesn't sound like that."

His snark came back and he winked as he shuffled all he bills back into their file. "That's right. It's only a dream. A prophetic one. You now know the future."

"I do, huh?"

"Yeah. Future says I won't be around too much for the next couple days. Don't worry." He ruffled her hair and fled out the front door, leaving her to lock it behind him.

* * *

Over the next few days, several things happened.

Xander and his friends did yet another patch job, at a steep discount, and the group as a whole prayed the plumbing would hold until money was found for the major refitting.

Willow applied for a job at the tech center in the campus' computer lab, and as she managed to fix the interviewer's computer during the process, she felt confident she got the job.

Tara asked Giles and Anya if they needed another hand at the store on the weekends.

Dawn studied her butt off. She was secretly determined no one would be burdened by paying for her college tuition, coming up in just a few short years. She had always been great at academics- until her mom died. Her best subject was English. She had liked school and liked being the "good student" of the family, because everyone know that sure wasn't Buffy's title. Without her mom to brag about her, and then without Buffy there- it had all seemed pretty pointless. Spike helped her with her homework, and Willow and Tara kept her going to classes, but she just coasted, Cs and Ds, the occasional B or F. No more straight As.

Well, no more of _that_. Suddenly school had a point again, not just to be good at it and to feel pride in herself or have others take pride in her. School was to learn, and learning was to get you a scholarship, to get your degree and get a job, and _that_ was when you should feel proud of yourself and want others to feel proud of you, too. When you were really helping your family, the way they'd always helped you.

* * *

Buffy had her own ideas about what to do. She needed a job, and Giles and Anya (okay, mainly Giles) were quick to offer her one. She didn't think she could take working for Giles, as well as training with him, and being under Anya's rabid business instruction all day was going to make her crazy. Plus, she wasn't digging the magic just now. She politely put that aside as a last resort.

Xander thought she might kick ass working with him, on his building crew. She would out perform the entire team and not even break a sweat. Buffy inwardly cringed at that idea. Construction meant early hours and sensible shoes. But hey, manual labor. Heavy lifting, and maybe a minimum of heavy thoughts. She agreed to try it.

On a more personal note, she seemed more affectionate around all of her friends, more relaxed. Slowly coming back to life, slowly healing. She didn't tell them it was largely in part to one vampire who she couldn't shut up.

_Where's he been, anyway?_

* * *

"I'm callin' in my marker."

"What are you gonna do? Break my thumbs if I don't pay up?" The heavy, dark haired vampire laughed when confronted by his much smaller former poker buddy.

"That's a start." Spike smiled, lunged on hand forward, and twisted the thumb free inside its socket.

The other vamp howled in rage and pain. "What are you doing? I thought you were one of the good guys now?"

"You know what? You're right. I am." Spike was a blur, both hands to the other's chest. One hand dove in and extracted something from the inner pocket of the vampire's loud sports coat, the other jammed the stake concealed in Spike's full coat sleeve into the heart.

"Hm, not too bad." He mused as the dust settled. Spike opened the wallet he'd just spared from being turned to dust with the rest of the vampire's worldly goods. Several blood stained bills and some change tipped into his palm. "Bloody hell, why didn't I think of this before?"

Jingling some of the change he'd just found, he hustled from the alley behind Willy's to the pay phone up the street. He dialed a number he knew by heart, one of two numbers, actually. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Willow, it's Spike."

"Hi." Willow said cheerfully, then sobered, "Is something wrong?"

"No. Not at all. How are things at Slayer-Central?"

"Well- Buffy and Tara are trying to make meatloaf." Her voice dropped. "If you wanted to come over to dinner- don't."

He chuckled. "Thanks for the warning, Red." He paused. "So, her hands are prolly a bit full just now. Uh. Tell her I'll handle patrol tonight. Oh, an' can I speak to Dawn?"

A year ago, that would have been met with a volley of interrogation, then a resounding no, and maybe a handful of threats. As it was now, Willow put the phone to her chest and shouted upstairs. "Daa-awwn! Spike's on the phone!"

In the kitchen, Buffy's hand smashed an entire egg- complete with shell, into the ground beef. Tara yelped. Buffy blushed. "Spike? What's he want?"

"He uh-" Dawn raced to the phone and made up an excuse on the fly, "he was going to help me with my French homework. But- but I finished it. Hi, Spike." She snatched the portable and darted back upstairs.

"Hey, Pit Bull. Nice cover." He chuckled. "I think I have a way to help with the bills, but I don't think your sis would go for it until I explain it. An' we don't have loads of time to explain things."

"What are you doing? What can't you explain?"

"I think by the end of the night, I might have a way to get some of the smaller bills paid off, but your sis has to write the checks, doesn't she?"

"Uh- yeah. To put in the little angry red-letter envelopes and send back."

"So I need to get this money into her account. An' if I remember rightly, you were the one who always went with the bot to do the banking."

"Yeah, Willow and Tara thought it wouldn't look as weird if two family members were doing the money stuff together then if a group of friends went in. But Anya's the one who told me what to do!"

"Good thinking on Red's part, an' don't worry, this isn't complicated. If I give you the money, think you can get the folks at the bank to put it in her account?"

"I think so, but I think Buffy'll go along with whatever you say. Unless you're robbing people. Spike-"

"No! Of course I'm not." _Robbing vampires and dusting them. Call it patrolling with ATM features. _He sighed. "Alright, I'll explain it to her, but if she refuses to take the money-"

"I'll take the money." Dawn quickly agreed before he could even finish the sentence.

"That's all I want. I want it to get in there, even if it has to go in your account, or you have to slip it to the wiccas or Demon Gal, whatever, but I want you lot to have it."

"Got it." She nodded.

"I'll come over tomorrow, before school. You meet me outside, take the cash, an' then I'll come in an' explain to your sis. If she doesn't like it, well, I'll just leave, but the money's already with you regardless. If she doesn't mind, you hand her the money. Alright?"

"Deal."

"Dawnie?" Buffy's voice was outside the teen's bedroom door. "Are you still talking to Spike?"

"Yes!" Dawn shouted back. "It's Buffy." She hissed into the phone.

"Of course. Never could surprise her." Spike groaned.

Buffy twirled her hand in her hair, semi-self-conscious to ask what she wanted to ask. "Um. Can I talk to him when you're done?"

"She wants to talk to you. She sounds all girly, too." Dawn suppressed a giggle.

"Put her on. An' remember, meet me outside in the morning. Just before light. Under the oak?"

"I'll be there. Here, Buffy." Dawn handed her sister the phone through the door. "Did you just abandon Tara down there with dinner?"

"Don't worry, I think she's happy with me for that." Buffy giggled and put the phone to her ear.

"Laughin' are you?" Spike put another quarter in the machine. "That's a good sound."

"If you want to laugh really hard, you can come over and watch Tara try to de-eggshell the meatloaf I just ruined. Without cursing."

"I think I'll pass." Spike tried to ignore the gnawing inside him, the desire to see the smile he could hear in her voice, watch her laughter bubble out in person. "I'm lettin' you have a night off, hard workin' construction types need their sleep."

"Pshht. I can handle patrol and this job." She said. Buffy blinked. _Wow. Where did that come from? Three days ago I had a screaming fit in front of him. A sobbing fit, even._

"Sounds like you're back in shape, Pet." He smirked, proud of his part in it, proud of her uncrushable spirit.

"Better shape, anyway." She cleared her throat. "Things are still a mess with the money. Anya was saying I should go in and talk to a loan officer at the bank. For the plumbing bill anyway."

"Yeah, Luv, good plan. Gotta be some equity in the place for repairs."

"I hope so. If not- well, Xander's patch job is holding for now."

"Miraculous." He snarked softly.

"Spike, don't. I don't even think Xander has slept in three days, he's always working at the site or working here."

"Anya must be goin' mad. She doesn't like when her boyfriend runs low on steam." The chuckle turned dark and deviant.

Buffy felt a little twinge as she agreed. A low down twinge. She didn't think those parts still worked. "No, she doesn't. Which makes her grouchy and complain-y."

"Oh, she'll get over it. Seen her snappish plenty over the summer. Those two always make up, they're the only ones who can stand each other."

"I'm gonna hang up on you."

"Nah, not a bad thing. To have someone crazy about you even if you drive everyone else starkers."

His voice had that pointed tone in it, suggestive but light enough not to scare her off.

Buffy felt the twinge turn to a warm tingle. _Yes. It would be so nice to have that sort of relationship._ Weird how that no longer sent her screaming away. _I guess once you die and lose everything, see heaven and have to get sent back to the earthly form of hell- you have a little more philosophical attitude towards pain, fear, and- liking someone._ "They are crazy about each other. Hopefully they are doing some of the 'crazy' part right now, because Anya is reeeeally cranky when- uh-" _I cannot talk about sex with Spike right now. I mean, not sex _with_ him, sex _to _him, I mean- Crap._

"When she's not getting any?"

"Exactly. She gets all whiny and complaining and starts blurting out stuff." Buffy sagged against the doorway of her room as she talked, and eagerly switched topic onto something more urgent and less confusing. "She told Giles about the bill situation, even though I told her not to. She's saying he was on the phone, moving money around before she could even finish her sentence. He has to wait for some of his London moving expenses to get untied up, and then he wants to loan us money for any bills outstanding." She sounded miserable at the prospect.

"You told her not to?" _Why would you do a stupid thing like that? I don't know how much Watchers earn, but he has to have some tucked away. You're the closest thing he has to a family, of course he wants to help look after you! _

"I didn't want to _ask _him for help." She looked at her shoes. "If he offered, okay, but I don't want to ask."

_And that's your weakness. Too strong. Too proud. Never thought there could be such a thing, then I met you. You'll drown before you reach for someone_. "Sweetheart, someone had to tell him what was goin' on. The old man was so broken hearted after-" Spike put his hand on the phone box for support, the sudden weight of memories taking out his knees, " you know. After. If he'd had a few days to think about it, he would have offered, without anyone sayin' a thing. I think he's still in awe, think we all are- that you're back. Easy to overlook the little problems when all we can see is one huge, beautiful miracle."

"You didn't." She murmured.

"You showed me there was more behind the miracle, showed me the face under it." He reminded her quietly.

A pause. A heartbeat. "When are you coming over?" She suddenly demanded.

"Tomorrow morning." He was just as eager to reply.

"I have to go to work."

"I'll come early."

"Okay." _I miss you. I miss talking to you without saying anything, I miss being with you and I don't even have to feel like anyone else is around me... I can be alone with you here. Or just alone with you..._

"Miss you too, Slayer." He said in the pregnant wake of her single word. There was so much more left to be said, and it thrilled him to what she was feeling, even if she wouldn't come right out and say it. Yet. Spike hung up the phone and sighed, a deep shuddering sigh that went straight down to his boots. Then he vamped and marched back into the bar.

He had a long list of people who owed him money, and he'd been working through it in the last day or two. He also had a short list of people who owed him favors and an unspeakably long list of evil demons he'd never met before, but would be happy to remove from the Hellmouth, so Slayer wouldn't have to work so hard. If they had a little cash on them at the time- no harm done.

* * *

Dawn eased her way out of the house as the stars faded. She was already dressed for school, and hoped Spike had a barrel full of bill money because she was going to be ready to pass out by fifth period thanks to this before sunrise appointment. She made her way to the oak in the far corner of the lawn, crossed her arms, and waited, silently huffy about her sneakers getting wet in the dewy grass.

* * *

"What if we stop following her, and just lure her in?" A figure in a black van turned to two other figures in the back. The two figures were asleep. "Hey!" He kicked the smallest one awake and watched them leap.

"What?" The short, almost prepubescent brunette cried in alarm.

"Prepare to meet your nemesis- es." The scrawny blonde boy slurred dazedly as he sat up.

"The Slayer stakeout is going way too slowly. She's never alone. She never even goes out of the house unless she's with one of her buddies or on her way to meet them." Warren turned to Jonathan. "I thought you said she patrolled by herself."

"That was two years ago, I don't know what she does anymore." He whined. "Warren, this is stupid. Why don't we just start working on building our empire without worrying about her? We could rob a bank-"

"Or use the weapons' system on the DeathStar II? It's upgraded." Andrew, the blonde, suggested eagerly.

"We are not calling the van the DeathStar II." Warren glowered. "Forget about robbing banks, or ruling this town, or anything else on our Evil Alliance checklist, until the Slayer is out of the picture. She always ruins things for us, and we're going to make sure she can never interfere in anything, ever again."

Jonathan and Andrew exchanged glances. "That sounds kind of -harsh." Jonathan spoke up.

"Like the mob." Andrew twisted one of his blonde curls nervously. "I thought we could be like Lex Luthor and Superman. You know? We could have an ongoing super villain- superhero relationship, pitted against each other, trying to figure out each other's plans."

"Oooh, yeah, like Spiderman and -"

"Shut up! This isn't comic books, this is about power, about taking money and getting pretty bimbos who like money." Warren backed the van up slowly, in neutral.

"What are we doing?" Jonathan scrambled up and into the passenger seat.

"Her sister just came outside. She must be really early for the bus or maybe she's trying to sneak a smoke, but I think we ought to bring her with us instead."

"We can't be kidnappers! I- I am anti-kidnapping." Andrew squeaked.

"We're not kidnapping, we're simply getting a token for an exchange. We get the little girl, and we trade her for the Slayer. Then the rest-" Warren gave a sick grin via the rearview mirror, "I can handle."

"I don't like this."

"We won't hurt her." Warren scoffed. "Just grab her and put her in the back."

"Grabbing implies kidnapping!" Andrew protested.

"Well, if you're not sure about it, you can go back to painting Lord of the Rings figurines and living in your aunt's basement."

"Don't dis Gandalf, dude." Andrew quavered.

"Then don't be a wimp."

"I'm not a wimp!"

"Good. Get ready to drive fast." Warren eased the car into drive and pushed Andrew into the seat as he leapt from the van.

"Oh man..." Jonathan clutched his stomach. "This is going to be so bad..."

He was correct.

* * *

"Niblet." Spike hissed from the bushes behind the oak.

"There you are." Dawn turned around to see the vampire sliding from the hedge, and moved around the back of the shade tree to greet him. "Whoa. You need to eat. I think you have more blood on you than in you."

"Don't worry." Spike chuckled. "None of it's mine. Sorry to cut it fine, I -" He paused, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell is that?"

"What?" Dawn tried to return to the front of the tree, only to find herself unceremoniously shoved deep into the bushes as Spike let out a hissing curse.

* * *

Warren saw her move from the front to the back. So much the better. A little more cover to grab her. He doubled his speed and paused, ready to spring.

Instead he was the one being leapt out at.

"That's not the little sister!" Andrew yelped from the safety of the van.

"That's a vampire!" Jonathan's foot skidded off the brake and the car lurched into the curb, jostling them both. A loud science fiction theme blared from the horn as Andrew's hand smacked down on the steering wheel.

* * *

Tara, and Willow stirred in their sleep. Buffy's eyes flickered open. "I know that song. I think." She murmured drowsily. "Da-awn! Turn down the cartoons, okay?" No more loud beepy noises. Good. She rolled over.

* * *

Spike rolled the boy in black over and over in the grass, his chip sending increasingly violent zaps, but nothing incapacitating. So far. "What're you doing here?"

"Wh- what are you- get your hands off- me!" Warren panted and grappled, eyes widening as he recognized the unlikely defender. All of his super villain devices were useless since he couldn't reach them, and since he hadn't figured he'd need anything but viciousness and threats to get the girl. "Get off of me or I'll shoot your face off." He spat at his attacker. Spike only laughed. Apparently threats didn't work on everyone.

"You were after my Dawn." Spike vamped and had the delight of hearing the man screech like a little girl.

"Drive, drive, drive!" Andrew was also screeching.

"I told him, I told him, I told him!" Jonathan was babbling, trying to get the van off the curb.

* * *

The loud revving sounds brought the Summers' home awake. "Dawn? Dawn!" A triad of voices called. No answer. Three women raced from their rooms, exchanged panicked glances, and fled from the house.

* * *

Spike's own hoarse shout mingled with the three effeminate screams as he threw Warren, head first, through the windshield of the van.

"Oh my God!" Andrew seemed on the verge of tears. Warren lay across the passenger seat and floor, an ominous dent in his skull, and blood from a dozen glass shards leaking from his face.

"Get out of here. Out of this town." Spike panted out in a harsh, threatening tone. He felt the sun warming up his back, no, burning it up. He shoved the van from the curb with all his remaining strength as his brain seemed to fizzle and fry. "Leave the country if you're smart. If he's not dead- he will be next time I see his face. Same for you. No one hurts these girls."

"I told him not to! I didn't want to hurt the Slayer or anyone-"

"MOVE!" Spike vamped again and lunged forward.

With one more double scream, the van roared down the street.

He collapsed in the place it had left vacant. _Saved the girl. But it was my fault she was out here. Only tryin' to help. Oh God._ He rolled over and clutched his head, eyes squinted shut against the sun. Hot sparks began to jump from his skin. _Just when I thought I was winning, the sun sticks his long nose in..._

"Up, up, up!" Dawn was on one side of him, Buffy, silent and white as him on the other. The witches were saying something and the sky wasn't yellow and blue anymore, kind of cloudy and hazy. Then dark. Rain splashed his face.

"So sorry, Pet." He tried to straighten up.

"You saved me from the creepy kidnapper guy, what are you sorry for?" Dawn yammered nervously, hauling him across the lawn, double time, into the house. Buffy let go of him long enough to close the curtains, her sister and her two friends now draping him over the couch.

"My fault..."

"What happened?" Buffy demanded.

Around him he was dimly aware of a hurried conversation, Tara moving to get him some blood and wet cloths, Willow reversing whatever incantation she'd done to bring the rain and save him from the sun, Dawn making excuses. "Bloody hell." He tried to sit up, hand over his aching eyes. He figured the shock was this severe this time because he hadn't meant to wound. He'd wanted to kill. Three boys, trying to put his girl, his friend-sister-child- ally, in a van. Then what would happen? He didn't know, his thoughts didn't extend past the part where he got his hands on them. He wanted to tear their spleens out and split them open, throat to thighs. He shuddered again. _But she's safe this time. Both of them, safe this time._

"Bit." He groaned. She instantly fell silent. They all did. "My fault. I asked her to meet me outside to give her the money. If she hadn't been waiting outside- no one would've hassled her."

Buffy swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She didn't know what he was saying, and she breezed over it, a familiar helpless feeling threatening to engulf her. She hugged Dawn to her suddenly, collapsing the leggy teen into her lap even though she was too big to fit. "It's okay. It's okay." She mumbled, soothing them both.

Tara handed Willow a wet washcloth and they both started sponging the bloodied and burnt man off, exchanging nervous looks over his head. "Guys? I th-think that van was outside the magic shop this weekend." Tara suddenly remembered.

"It was in front of the house yesterday, too." Willow's eyes widened. "I think it was, anyway. A black van, I mean, lots of people have black vans."

Buffy blinked and looked out the window, even though the curtains were drawn and the van was long gone. "No. It was. It was there the other day, too. I thought it was one of Xander's buddy's, who came to help with the repairs."

"One of them said he wanted the Slayer." Spike's eyes focused finally. "But that's all I let him say."

"You didn't do anything wrong." Dawn squirmed out of Buffy's arms and stood. "They're gone for now."

"They're gone for good. I think the one who was tryin' to get hold of you might be gone for quite a few hours." Spike tapped his forehead, in reference to the dent he'd put in his prey's cranium. "Red, you're good with maths. What's the likely outcome for a bloke being thrown at vampire pitch through a windshield at close range?"

Willow took the mug of steaming blood from Tara's hand and put it in Spike's. "Let's see. That's V over mass times velocity squared by impact... I'd say fractured skull and internal bleeding. Maybe some steel plate accessories in his future."

Spike closed his eyes again and drained his cup. "I sent them packing. If they come around again-"

"I'll deal with them." Buffy, Willow, and surprisingly even Tara, said grimly.

"I can scry them, make sure they're far away." Willow looked to Tara, waiting to see if she'd approve of that use of magic.

"Good idea." Tara said firmly.

"Dude, I'm calling the police." Dawn turned to get the phone.

"What are we supposed to say?" Buffy asked her sister.

"Well, I don't know who they were, but-"

"I do." Spike groaned, head aching but clear. "I wasn't goin' heavy on the thinking, I was more worried about the fact that he was runnin' at Niblet. But I know that face. The one who built the robot."

"Eeew." A quartet of feminine disgust.

He ignored the shame he felt when he thought about the plastic princess he'd had commissioned. "An' the little one. One with that wish-granting nonsense that made all of us call you Betty. Remember that, Slayer?" _I do. Knew somethin' was wrong that night. An' knew I wanted you anyway, even like that, somethin' was in there..._

"Jonathan? I saved his life!" Buffy was properly indignant. "Dawn, give me the phone. If they're in this country, we're going to find their lame asses and put them behind bars."

* * *

"Donde es hotel?"

"Don't pronounce the h." Jonathan muttered. "We're gonna get pulled over! We're driving without a windshield, man!"

"You need to pull over anyway, he won't wake up. Dios mio!"

"Stop practicing your Spanish!" Jonathan ignored the frantic cry. "The police in Mexico are probably a lot more laid back about vehicle safety anyway." The van continued to roar down the highway, leaving Sunnydale far behind, intent on leaving the state as well.

The criminal trio weren't the only ones leaving. While Buffy spoke loudly and forcefully on the phone, the witches were upstairs with maps and magical whatnot, and Dawn went to change her clothes, Spike took the money from his coat. He moved slower than he would've liked. A few burns, a long night, and a pre-morning electrification would do that to a fellow. He slipped the stack into Dawn's book bag, and then slid out the door and into the nearest sewer grate, heading home the underground way. Everyone was safe. Enough. The money was in her hands. Mission accomplished- but bloody well buggered up.

No end to buggered up. Dawn almost hurt, almost lost a second time. Him almost fried, externally and internally, Buffy and her mates reminded of his less than wholesome associates... Entering the crypt through the basement level, Spike decided that in this game- you could drink when you lost. He took a bottle of the best and slung himself into bed.

* * *

He didn't get to stay there for long. "Spike? Spike!"

"Down here! Hang on." Spike called hastily, waking up with a start,pushing the bottle aside, reaching for his shirt and pants. He was struggling into them and up the ladder in seconds.

"You don't have to come up, I'm- Oh, well, you are up." Buffy backed up as the stone slab was pushed back and his head and shoulders appeared.

"Don't you have work? Is everything okay?" Spike looked up at her, befuddled.

"Yeah, I have it, in a couple hours. Willow's little rainstorm/sun blocker spell turned the site to mud. It needs a little time to dry out. Xander took Dawn to school, and the police put out an APB for Warren and Jonathan and a 'third unknown male'. They came and took a statement. You were described by Dawn as 'a really nice goth jogger' who saw what was happening and tried to help her."

"I jog now?" He laughed hollowly as he hauled himself through the opening completely and took a perch across from where she sat on one of the stone carvings in the crypt. "Just when I think I've endured every humiliation known to vamp..."

"I've got more." Buffy reached into the back pocket of her jeans. "How in the world did you get seven hundred and thirty six dollars, and what was it doing in Dawn's back pack?"

"Oh. You saw that. She didn't explain?" He asked uncomfortably.

"She tried. I was putting her lunch in the bag and we were both kind of surprised this was in there, too. She said the money was from you, for us, and you were going to explain it in person to her, and then the Warren hit the fan."

"I'm so sorry 'bout that..." He sighed and looked at her. "You want a drink before i start talkin'? Might help?"

"I have to carry crossbeams all day. I'm not drinking." She refused.

"Fair enough."

The hesitation was killing her. And him, by the looks of it. "Hey. I already forgave you for everything. Just- talk." _Like we do. Like we always do._ Buffy's shoes nudged his bare toes, and he smiled, sighed again, and let loose.

"See, I didn't think you'd like it. I started to explain in the house- I think. All muddled."

"It's okay, just explain now. Why won't I like whatever this is?"

" 'Cause it's not legit. Strictly speakin'. I called up a few friends who I'd spotted in craps an' cards, collected a little bit on what they owed me. Saw the bills the other night, and figured even if you wouldn't take it, it not bein' 'honest earnings', Dawn would put it in your account. An' then it would be there, you'd blame the banks, some addition error, some overdraft gone wrong an' refunded." He shrugged.

Her brain whirled around so many dozens of ideas and responses and all that came out was, "But that's your money."

"But I don't need it." He insisted. "I don't want it, I don't want to take it back, an' I don't want you to pay me back." His voice rushed on, speaking more quickly, almost angrily in his emphasis. "You didn't ask- I offered."

"I- but-"

"Jus' say thank you. Or tell me you hate it, but take the damn money." He gave her a desperate look.

Buffy looked at the bills in her hand. Folded over, curled up in a green and dirty gray cylinder. "Thank you."

"You'll keep it?" His eyes lit up.

"Yeah."

"Promise?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, then here's the other part. But you gave me your word, so the money is yours, no take backs."

"Spike!"

He hurried on, sensing the exasperation. "You know how when you stake a vamp, they go 'poof!' as you so sweetly put it?" He mimed the dust exploding out from the center of his chest.

"Kind of an expert on 'poof!'." Buffy nodded, one eyebrow arched, wondering about the amount of brain damage a good zapping might have done.

"An' everything goes to ashes, vampires, clothes, jewelry... wallets." He gave her a significant look and saw the realization hit her.

"You- you robbed them, and then staked them?"

"No! I simply extracted the wallet simultaneously." He answered with a put on air of haughtiness. "Slayer, you are lettin' _hundreds_ of dollars go every month! An' it's not their cash, it's their victims'."

"That doesn't make it okay to take!" She shook her head.

"It doesn't make sense to burn money with the body, either." He cried, just as fiercely passionate about this as she was.

"I'm not killing vampires for their money, Spike!"

"No, you're killin' 'em so they don't kill others, right?"

"Yes!"

"You'd do it anyway, wouldn't you? If I never mentioned this?"

"It's my job. I can't get out of it. Tried. Failed." She rolled her eyes heavenward.

"So, my point is, it's free money. It's blowin' in the wind, dusty, unless you take it." She looked at him mulishly. "D'you know those people's families might never have gotten closure? You could return the wallets, with the IDs. Give 'em one final memento. Be a service."

"Just take the money out first? That's theft." She crossed her arms.

"Some won't have wallets or identification. Some of it's been taken off of bodies of innocent victims, which you've just avenged." His voice changed, becoming softer, almost haunting. "Those poor souls who in their spirit state reach out to you- and say," Spike's eyes went soft and far away, his hand reaching out pleadingly, then his voice went from ethereal to annoyed, "'keep the goddamn money, you just killed the beast who murdered me!'"

She didn't mean to. She just had to. It wasn't funny. But he was. She laughed helplessly. "You're so messed up."

"It's why you like me." He beamed when she laughed, holding the sound to himself, savoring it.

"Whatever." She breezed over that part, trying to stay focused. "I don't know if I can do that. If I can say 'give me your wallet, I'm going to kill you'. It's too- crime-y."

He heard the things she didn't say, not only what she did. That's what being an 'expert' on someone does to you. "But you might take the money, if I did that?"

"I don't want you to make money to give to us." Buffy denied.

"But it's okay if Willow and Tara do?"

"Yeah, but they might not even have to. I'm going to talk to the loan people at the bank, this might all get wrapped up, no problem. Even if it didn't, it's different, they live there." Buffy argued.

"I might as well, all the time I spent there over the summer, often as I'm over there now." He argued in turn.

"But I want you there. Dawn does, too. Not that I don't want Willow and Tara there. I mean-" She closed her eyes. "You_ know_ what I mean." _Why do I blurt out so much around him? He just makes me feel- safe? Is that the feeling? I don't think I've felt safe since before Angel- no. Don't think back. _

"You always helped me, ever since I couldn't help myself." Spike whispered. _God, she turns me to mush. Hate that. Love her._

"But I'm a 'good guy'."

"Yeah, well. I'd like to be."

Stunned eyes that knew they shouldn't be stunned. Buffy looked at him as he twitched his shoulders. "You know what I mean. For you." He tacked on uneasily.

"I know." She cleared her throat. "If you want to help, I guess- thank you." She concluded simply, not knowing what to say.

"Least I can do. Every time I try anything with you, Luv, seems like I mess it up. Good or bad. Even this. If I hadn't asked Dawn to meet me outside-"

"The creepy stalker people might've been following us for days. You brought it to a head, and you sent them far away. Willow and Tara did their magical tracking stuff and said they're booking it south." She consoled in a matter-of-fact voice.

"I just reacted. I saw him comin' where she'd been standin', and I went mad." _I went back. I saw them comin' at her, with that knife, and I was gonna save her, and what happened? Shove. Splat. Spike's on the ground, she's trapped hundreds of feet up..._ "Always wanted to protect her, and I put her in danger." He mumbled, shaking his head.

Buffy mumbled back, shaking her head as well. "That's _my_ line. My whole life puts her in danger, always did. You just want to wrap her up some place-"

"Where they can't reach her." He nodded in empathy.

"Where they don't even_ know_ about her."

"She'd hate that."

"Totally."

" 'Cause she loves fightin' by your side, even if it's not so much front lines, just background. She loves you."

"She loves you, too. I think we're all more shaken up than she was. She knew you would protect her."

"I dunno why she'd feel-"

"Because you've always protected her." Buffy cut him off sharply.

"I try. I _tried_."

Her body was on autopilot. She scooted her rear off the ledge it rested on, scuffing on the knees of her jeans until she was able to look him in the eyes, even with his head bowed. "You did it."

He fell into her eyes, wondering how he kept setting out to look after her, help her, and she kept helping him. Is that what it's supposed to be like when you're in love with your equal? You strengthen them, they strengthen you? He'd wanted to heal her, make her happy, and well- he was succeeding. He'd just thought it'd be more one sided. All of his effort, sacrificed to her. Love's bitch, and love's apologizing for its failures.

_She forgave me. It doesn't mean I'm done wishing there hadn't been a need to._

"I wanted to save her. Wanted to save you both." He let his hand follow his eyes, landing gently, fingertips only, on the curve of her face, standing out in relief in the darkness.

She heard his words from days ago._ Every night I save you._ It hadn't been true then, she'd been sacrificed, not saved. But it was true now. Each night, each day, pulling her back, into the land of the living. It wasn't a one time save. It was happening, little by little, piece of a broken woman by piece. _He finally gets what he wants. Maybe I'll find what I want, too._ "Every night you save me."

She looked up at him, lips spasming in something meant to be a smile, but falling short. She didn't have to worry if he understood that little half-grimace, half-tremulous grin, because his own lips instantly quirked the same way.

Mouths mirrored. Eyes flickered and flared, back and away, like candle flames caught in a sudden gust, taking in that half-hidden expression, the perfect symmetry of their actions. Hand to her face. Her hand came to his. Mouths smoothed out, lost the tremble, lost the tightness. Soft.

_She's so soft._ Palm replaced fingertips.

_He keeps trying... _Tentative fingers collapsing until her hand cupped his cheek.

_When did I get scared to try?_ He held back, frozen, lingering. _I want to push, but I don't want to push until it snaps. Not anymore, she's too precious to lose. Again..._

_When did he make me forget I was afraid of these feelings?_ She moved forward. _I'm still scared. But- _she pushed herself up on her knees as he let his other hand slide up to rest on her shoulder,_ every night he saves me. _

_She's kissing me._ She_ is kissing _me_. _

_ What am I doing, what am I doing? I'm going to get hurt, too much, too fast, remember the pain... _She pulled back with a gasp.

He didn't look reproachful at all, not disappointed that she stopped. He looked- blessed. Kissed by an angel. He just soaked in the wake of it.

She expected him to redeclare his love, or instigate another embrace._ But why would he do that? Isn't he the one who keeps saving you, piece by piece? He knows. Slowly. _

Slowly seemed like a good move. She leaned forward again.

He caught her. Wrapped his arms around her this time._ Maybe it takes longer than I thought. Maybe I never thought it would happen because I expected it to happen all at once. Every night I save you. That's right, Beautiful. _He lost himself more completely in her, with nothing but a kiss. _It's not once and done. It's love. It happens every day, every night, eternally. Maybe one second at a time, or one second _chance _at a time. Every night I will save you. _

Her hands moved from his face, one slid to his shoulder, and one slid to his ribs. They latched on tight, like she needed him. His own fingers tightened. _Need you just as much._

_Every night, a little at a time, you'll save me, too. _

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's note: Glimpses and perspectives. _

_Author's second note: This was supposed to be a short story. I think I've passed short at this point, and I'm not done. To those of you who know me, this will come as no great surprise..._

_Dedicated to NeonRaver, ginar369, Alexiarrose, haleycc, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, Teddybear-514, Rosalea12, ladyamadaun, and MaireAilbhe._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part VII**

"I have to go to work." Buffy pulled back awkwardly from their third prolonged kiss. She didn't want it to feel awkward, but it did._ How can you be so comfortable around him and get all those feelings, and still freak out? Oh, yeah. Because it's me. Okay, yeah, and partly because it's him._

"I know." Spike released her reluctantly. His body and mind were having a pitched battle over that action. Everything from lips to groin was hotly protesting that if kissing her felt that amazing, pulling her downstairs and rolling around on the bed would have to be something beyond a spiritual experience. His mind was winning though. Making Slayer happy meant keeping things moving at a pace she was comfortable with. He had to admit he'd never gotten this far before (without the aid of witchcraft or complete body breaking torture). _Do the smart thing, William. Yes, I know this isn't the boldly brash version of love, the blood crying out, the passion burning. How we always thought love would , look where it got you. You're smart enough not to screw this up, aren't you? Learn some new tricks, after all, for all your expertise on love, you've never been in love with_ her._ Never been in love like this. _

He stood when she stood, watched her brush off her knees, smooth out her hair. Waiting to say something. It was killing him, and for once, the man with a million words didn't know the right ones to offer. He wanted to ask what she felt, what that kiss meant to her, if there would ever be a repeat performance. Mostly he wanted to keep silent though, let her speak. Afraid of the wrong words equalling the wrong reaction. _Only Slayer I've ever been scared of... the one I'm in love with. How soddin' screwed up is that?_

"Th-thank you." Buffy tucked the back of her black teeshirt back into her jeans more firmly, looking down at her new and already scuffed work boots. "For the money. And helping us. A-and _that_."

"My pleasure. All three." He replied quickly, a softened version of his trademark smirk on his face.

Buffy gave him a grin back. _I should tell him not to get carried away about the kissing part. That this might be a one time thing, don't get your hopes up. No, that's what I always tell myself. But he keeps saving me. He keeps catching me. It's going to be okay..._

"Thank you. For _that_." He turned her words around, figuring they'd be safe enough. She stared at him, with those half-lost green eyes, and her tightening lips, trying to find the right words. He remembered what he wanted, even more than her love. Her chance to be happy again- or maybe for the first time. "You know, sometimes you an' me talk a lot."

"No kidding." She remarked with genuine surprise. Of all the words he might've strung together, she hadn't considered those.

"Sometimes we don't have to."

She laughed and let out about ten pounds of stress she'd been wrapping to herself. "Sometimes the talking needs to happen- but I just screw up at it." She confessed.

"Me, too. Not that you can't always tell me whatever you like, -"

Buffy interrupted eagerly, nodding, "Yeah, you're the only one I can really talk to about a lot of things-" then halted herself, realizing how true and how really sad that was.

"It won't always be that way." He filled in the gaps for her. "Point bein'- are we good?" _Please just say yes, nothin' fancy, just yes..._

"We're really good." She reached out and grabbed his fingers in her own quickly. "Come by tonight? I'm _not_ cooking."

"I'll be there." He chuckled, squeezed her hand as well, and let her head off to work. He waited until she was gone before letting out a victory crow loud enough to wake his neighbors, and danced his way downstairs, back to bed, to replay every second of her kissing him, and the delights of kissing her back.

* * *

He arrived that night, a little later than he'd planned, only to find the entire troupe there, around the table, plates shoved out of the way, bills spread out. He had missed the meal, no great loss, and had arrived for the business portion of the evening by the looks of it.

"Spike's here!" Dawn bolted from her chair, and hugged him, in front of everyone.

"Niblet, what you are you-" Spike mumbled in her ear, almost hissing, hands awkwardly held up, not touching her.

She whispered, with the same sort of hissing urgency,"I'm helping, now shut up."

"Uh. Yes. Here I am." Spike lowered his hands to rest lightly on her back.

"Are you hungry? We have blood. Or there's leftover tacos." Willow asked as he stumbled forward, Dawn still beside him.

"Mmm, spicy, but I won't, thanks. I'm good. Just dropped by. See how everyone is." He smiled to the redhead.

"We're all good. Well- broke, but good." Buffy managed a smile herself.

"Not as broke as we were." Anya pushed a calculator away from herself, and Giles looked up from a column of figures. They smiled at him. Spike smiled back. Not strange with those two. Not exactly normal for the Watcher, but not unheard of. What was unheard of was when the boy put a beer in his hand, then picked up a few of the used dinner plates and walked past him into the kitchen. Unspeaking. Unsmiling. All the communication done in an cold glass bottle in his fist.

Spike nodded curtly to his retreating back, the unsmiling profile. _Doesn't matter if he never speaks to me again. That's what we call a hero's welcome around here._ "What's the plan, then?"

"Well, I personally think your idea of slaying with cash back rewards is not only efficient, but brilliant. And if it's strictly a cash basis, Buffy wouldn't have to declare it on her taxes!" Anya beamed at him.

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "You mentioned that, then?" He looked at Buffy.

"Kinda came out with the early morning adventure rehash." She blushed faintly. She and Tara instinctively moved nearer to Dawn. _We almost lost her this morning. What if they'd come in the house? What if they'd had guns? I mean, yeah, I'm a Slayer, but I'm not bullet proof. Sure the house is vampire-safe, but burglars? Not so much. Slayer-stalkers, probably also not so much._ "Thank you. Again."

"I didn't-"

Dawn kicked him lightly in the back of his ankle. "I don't think I said thanks either."

"I think you did. Honestly, I don't remember a lot of what happened after being zapped and sunlit."

"Well, erm. It was very heroic." Giles nodded. That was as close to gushing as he'd get. "And helpful." He gestured to the column of figures he had in front of him. "Aside from the plumbing repairs-"

Buffy interjected. "I have an appointment with the loan officer at nine tomorrow. Xander, I'll be in late, okay?"

"Fine, I can cover you." He yelled back from the kitchen.

"- we have a dent put in the household bills." Giles concluded, so used to being spoken over and under by this point in his life with his adopted family. "But I have to point out- this method of getting funds isn't acceptable in most cases."

"This is why I do the invoicing and accounts." Anya muttered at her business partner. "Wasting money..."

"I mean because when battling a vampire, one should focus on killing and saving one's life!" Giles glared at her. "If Buffy becomes focused on trying to get hold of a wallet instead of staking him-"

"I think it's icky." Tara put in one of her rare opinions.

"I think it's recycling." Dawn crossed her arms.

"I think it's not worth worryin' about in my case, 'cause I'm harder to kill, and I only know a few vamps who pack stakes. Most of us aren't after each other, an' it's like carryin' your own executioner around." Spike pointed out drily. "The main thing is, it's extra money if I happen to have it, an' Slayer doesn't mind me helpin'."

"After all the times she let you live, I would think it's kind of like lifetime layaway." Xander muttered, coming back into the room, collecting another armful of plates, cups, and cutlery before stalking back out.

_Bastard. But sort of true_. "Exactly." Spike agreed. There was a clatter of dish on metal and everyone winced.

"The blue pattern?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Coffee cup." Xander sighed back.

"Oh, that's okay then, we have lots of those." Dawn said cheerfully.

"Excuse me." Anya pushed her chair back and left the room, following the sounds of running water and angry dishwashing.

"Can we focus please?" Giles tapped his pen impatiently. "Stop doodling on the back of the list, Buffy, I see that..."

* * *

"I saw that. The beer. And the lack of overt scowling. Plus voluntarily doing all the dishes." Anya walked up beside Xander.

"He was in the right place at the right time." Xander shrugged and scrubbed particularly hard at the taco skillet, as if it had personally offended him in some way.

"You've been in the right place at the right time lots of times." Anya soothed.

Xander let go of the sponge and sighed. "Thanks, Babe."

"Oh no. There's more. When you sigh like that, there's always more. If you want to tell me something bad, you'd better just-"

"We could have lost her. All of them, all over again." Xander shuddered and turned to her, grabbing her hands in his soapy ones. "Those guys are pretty crazy, and I know first hand that they'd hurt people and not even get it was wrong, as long as they were living out their fantasies. I don't even know who the third whacko was, but I'm betting if he was hanging out with Jonathan and that robot builder, he was some unhappy little nerd, and probably willing to hurt someone if it got him what he wanted."

"But everyone is okay, Xander. They wanted Buffy and Dawn, but they didn't get them. Everything is fine." She comforted.

"I know." He nodded and pulled her close to his chest, his right hand insistently fondling her left. "You know when I asked you to marry me..." he cleared his throat, "it was because I suddenly saw life going all fast and furious, nothing to take for granted, nothing you can leave out, you can't just hope someone guesses how you feel."

Anya's eyes welled up and she locked her fingers through his. "I love you. There. So now you know. Now you know _extra_."

They shared a small chuckle. "I still feel that way."

She sighed. Resigned to waiting indefinitely on actions, trying to be content with feelings. "I know you do."

"Well, I felt it _a lot _today when Willow called me and told me what- what happened. What almost happened." He swallowed.

Anya stroked the brunette locks off his serious forehead, repeating words meant to soothe. "Everyone is safe, though. This isn't like the last time with Glory and Dawn and... Buffy."

"I get it, Sweetie, but it could've been." He looked into her eyes, so patient with him, yet so oddly impatient with life. "I keep waiting for everything to be perfect, for some right time to hit so we can tell everyone. Instead, bad things kept happening, no Buff being around, and it seemed so weird to be so happy when the world had one big chunk torn outta it." Xander shook his bangs out of his eyes as he confessed, "Part of me just felt guilty. Like I would be the worst friend in the world. How was it fair for me to be happy? I still had the person I loved most, and I would have felt selfish, telling everyone the best news of my life, at the same time we were having the worst news."

"What are you trying to say?" Anya prodded, still unused to trying to unravel her own emotions, let alone the emotions of multiple people at once.

"I don't want to waste any more time waiting for things to be perfect. I'm going to be glad if things are just 'okay'. Even if things were a mess, I don't think anyone would begrudge us our happiness, because we've all been working so hard to make things better, to get Buffy back..." Xander cursed himself for thinking he'd had to wait this whole time, and here, while he was busy waiting for Buffy to be back, and things to be "normal", the whole sickening chain of events had almost begun again.

"So now that she's back?" Anya hinted.

"That's not even it, Ahn. Waiting for everything to be perfect and safe is stupid, because that never happens around here." He rested his nose to hers, a boyish smile contrasting with the gravity in his tone, the depth in his eyes. "As long as things are good with you and me, that's as close to perfect as I need. Are things good, Babe?"

"Things are amazing." Anya kissed him fervently. Things were never perfect, never would be. Silly man. A thousand years on this planet had told her that and spending a year as a high schooler had really reinforced it! She still knew the mind and heart never stopped wishing for it anyway. She'd spent a lifetime of granting wishes for people who had lost their version of perfection, and she'd almost stopped wishing for any happiness herself- then this guy came along, full of mistakes like her. _Doesn't he know if I wanted perfection, I never would have chosen him? I want love, and love isn't perfect, not when humans do it._

She dared to ask the question she'd asked so frequently. "You want to tell them?"

"I think so. Everyone's here. The crisis train seems to have barreled by without hitting anyone for once." He watched her eyes sparkle, her ruby red lips part in a dazzling smile. "Can't wait one more second. Sorry I made you wait so long."

"I understand. I didn't like it, but I did understand. Mostly. " Anya suddenly let out a little flustered yet excited squeal. All the seriousness of the heartfelt moment was totally forgotten in favor of finally getting to share their news. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, the ring's in my purse, and I'm dying to put that sucker on!" She dragged her fiancé from the kitchen.

* * *

"Then you simply need to stick to the budget. Presuming you stay on with Xander's construction team." Giles clicked his pen point down and looked at the four women of the house.

"I haven't even worked there a whole week, I don't know if Xand- Xan?" Buffy watched Anya and Xander dash past them, giggling.

"Are you at a good stopping point? Are the finances stable enough to take a five minute break?" Anya demanded. "Or maybe a twenty minute one?"

"It's a wrap. What's up?" Buffy said with some semblance of her old perkiness.

Spike puffed up with happiness and a smidgen of pride. _She might not feel too bloody chipper, an' hell knows she had no reason to be- but for some reason she was managin' to pull through. I helped. I know I helped. 'Cause she told me so. _He slid a bit closer in his chair.

"We have something to tell you." Xander began nervously.

"That we've been waiting to tell you for a really long time." Anya stuck her hand out in front of her jittering body. "It's an engagement ring!" She stated the obvious.

"We're getting married." Xander seemed to have caught that particular character trait for the moment.

Silence.

Then whooping. Rushing, chairs pushed back, papers left scattered. A mass of hugging, squealing, jumping people- and one silent and bewildered looking vampire caught in the middle, slowly beginning to smile as he was passed along in the crush.

"Arrgggh! This is so exciting! A little unexpected, but totally exciting!" Willow was bear hugging her forever best friend.

"You're all bridesmaids!" Anya gushed, holding Tara and Dawn in an almost strangling hug.

"Except you, Wills, you're my best man. Woman. Whatever, you're it!" Xander was swinging her out of his arms in order to pull Buffy into them.

* * *

Buffy didn't know what happened. One minute she was struggling to keep up with notes about budgets and bills, worried about her new job, and her loan appointment, resentment no longer a constant scream inside her head, more like a nagging little whisper. The next minute- she felt this warm wave wash over her. Something familiar but forgotten. Something she'd experienced all through her years with her friends- the world was collapsing, but there were these moments when all the bad disappeared. The situation loomed in the background, but for a moment just being together blotted everything bad out.

The dark washed out of her outlook, just for a few minutes. Xander was beaming so proudly, telling her earnestly he hadn't been able to make this announcement until she was back, until she was better, how he'd never have rested until she was there with him.

Anya was all tearful, exuberant. Her blunt little phrases left no bruises this time. She was a blushing, beaming bride-to-be, who'd waited a thousand years for a fairytale wedding, and she'd waited indefinitely longer, waiting for a missing piece of the family to come home. She said all that- only with a lot more hiccup-y, happy gasps in Buffy's ear as she danced her in a joyful circle.

Buffy was swung from Anya's embrace,to end up flat against Spike's chest, set apart in the hall while the screaming and laughing clamor continued. "Too much?" He asked from the side of his mouth.

Buffy considered. "No. I don't mind." She looked back over her shoulder so see Giles wringing Xander's hand firmly, clapping him on the back. "For this- I don't mind."

He smiled and opened the front door. "This is prob'ly a family-style event. I'll -"

"Stay. This calls for celebrating." Buffy cocked her head. "Yeah, totally celebratory. Dawn's okay, I'm okay- thanks to a certain guy who likes to save us." Spike almost looked bashful at that comment. She hurried on. "Xander and Anya- the terminally cursed couple of the dating world, finally found people they love. I say we eat chips and drink fizzy, sugary things until we're hyper."

"An' you want me to partake of this?" Spike asked dubiously as he arched his scarred eyebrow.

She hesitated, groping for an explanation. "If you want. Things feel better when you're around." Buffy joined him over the threshold, watching a few moths dart around the porch light. "When everything is too bright," she watched a moth dance on the surface of the bulb, then flutter away lopsidedly, "you- turn things down for me. Not so hard. Not so bright. Not so loud..."

"Me? Not loud?" Spike scoffed, but only to hide his pleasure at her affectionate, trusting words.

"Miracles happen." She joked back.

"I know. One kissed me earlier." He whispered before he could censure himself.

Buffy stiffened. He stiffened. Worried eyes met uncomfortable ones.

"I wasn't supposed to be a miracle." She muttered, reminding him. He nodded, cursing inside himself.

_Wasn't supposed to be. But she is. Always was, but that's the thing about these noble sorts. They don't know it until you tell 'em. _"You were always pretty bloody miraculous to me." He dug in his jeans for his smokes, realizing his lighter was still in his coat, draped over a chair inside. He groaned softly and spit out the rest of the sentence. "Just like you were. Just like you are. Or would've been. Gone, here, back again, it doesn't matter to me." He fiddled with an unlit cigarette. "I know the extraordinary ones when I see them."

Buffy felt another wave of that reality-altering relief hit her. All the bad was gone. For a few minutes. Spike didn't care about the details as much as he simply cared about _her_. Safe. Relaxed. At peace.

_But here? So not heaven._ She looked at the vampire, slouched against the doorframe, cigarette plucking anxiously from one hand to the other. A strange unsettling feeling hit her, the same type of feeling she'd gotten the moment she realized heaven wasn't exactly truthful about the fate of her loved ones. In heaven she'd known her loved ones were safe- a lie. What she should have felt was that they were no longer her responsibility. Heaven made her feel finished, complete.

Her eyes continued to rake the man beside her. _Why do I feel the most whole, the most okay, around Spike, then? He was never in that safe, finished place._ _No. This isn't heaven. Heaven didn't have him. If I had to choose between- well, I never get asked about what choices I'd make. Part of being Chosen, heavy on the cosmic irony I guess._

"Said the wrong thing, didn't I?" Spike finally broke the silence.

"No." Her smile eased back onto her face. "Just the unexpected thing. B-but I liked it." She took his hand and pulled. "Chips. Soda. Hyper. Happy."

"Happy?" He felt the word float out like the smoke he was craving.

"Yeah. For a little bit. For tonight." She explained, hand nervously tangling up in her hair.

"Tonight is good." _First tonight. Then the next night. Make the happiness come out a little more, stay a bit longer. Each night. Every night. _

He waited for her to release his hand as her feet touched the polished wood of the hallway. They didn't. His own laced loosely with hers.

They walked back into the house together.

* * *

Giles, Xander, and Spike noiselessly exited the throng of women now rifling through bridal magazines and exclaiming over everything from the hairstyles on the covers to the earrings in the little tiny advertisements on the last page.

"I had no idea they even made that many varieties of limousines." Giles polished his glasses as he took a seat on the porch steps.

"In my defense- and note of masculine apology- I had no idea she was stashing them in the trunk of the car, just waiting to be unleashed once we gave the word." Xander groaned, but then laughed. "But it's cool. She's just so excited, and I've had her keeping a secret for so long."

Spike, remembering his lighter this time, strolled to the far end of the porch and lit up, muttering, "Well, that must have added to the shrew factor..."

"Hey!"

"I like a bit of shrew!" Spike spat back, and smiled crookedly. "Nice girl. You're lucky."

Unaccustomed to receiving a compliment from the being who seemed to thrive on annoying him, Xander just nodded.

Giles felt this was his cue to step in and say something complimentary as well. Something coherent, that is, because in his initial surprise, he'd been too busy saying bits and pieces of congratulatory phrases and hugging indiscriminately. Xander sat beside him and he began speaking with a purposeful- if stumbling, voice. "Yes. Very nice. Anya is a wonderful gi-wo- former vengeance demon." He grappled for the appropriate term, failing, he realized when Xander's eyes flashed in confusion at him. "I'm sure you'll spend many happy years of," _Dammit what's a good phrase there?_ "non-hell-dimensional bliss." He concluded._ And Rupert's tossed out, leg before wicket_. Xander smiled nervously at him, waiting for him to say something else.

_Best to change topics altogether. I'm failing miserably at complimenting her. Can I help it if I'm utterly stunned by the announcement? That when I think of her, I simply can't see a young girl, despite her form? That doesn't mean I don't like her, or wish them anything less than the best. Right, moving on, planning for the future, wishing them the best._

"Is she moving in with you?"

"Um..."

Giles latched onto the topic, wishing to pass on some fatherly wisdom, seeing as Mr. Harris had none to bestow to his only son outside of the best ways to avoid getting a DUI ticket. "You know, with your combined incomes, you might think about a down payment on a house."

Xander's mouth moved before his brain could consider an appropriate, or even, intelligent, response. "Like the kind you _live_ in?" _Whoa. Whoooooaaaaa. Slow down, horsey. I just put the ring on her finger for real, made it public. I don't need everything to be perfect, but I don't want to make them impossible, either. Mortgages on top of being "engaged" is too much for the single, twenty one year old brain. Whoa again. I'm not single. I'm _glad_ I'm not single. I've waited my entire post-puberty life not to be single!_ "Giles, I'm just trying to get past the 'The girl I love loves me back and wants to be my wife' stage."

Giles nodded, smiling in his usual demure but kind way. "No rush. I'm sure you have plenty to think about with the arrangements for the wedding and so on. You've got the rest of your lives to plan the rest of your lives." _There. That was a nice little turn of phrase, and supportive. Why am I doing so poorly at this? Possibly because I never thought Xander of all of them, would be the first to wed. Or possibly because as a Watcher, I expected to only have contact with one young person, a Slayer, and slayers do not form emotional attachments as a rule. So now I have all these young adults about and I feel like a relic and-_

Xander laughed nervously. "Yeah, yeah."

Both of them sat there, both looking uncomfortable, Xander's discomfort level seemed to be warring with nerves.

"Giles! Now that you know we have a wedding to save for, can I have that raise I've been asking about?" Anya's voice drifted out to the porch.

Giles pushed himself up hastily, and turned around to call back. "You're a partner! You don't get an hourly wage, you get a share of the profits and you know that! We've discussed this!" He turned to Xander. "Excuse me."

* * *

After Giles excused himself, Xander sat on the steps, staring straight ahead, lost in thought. So lost he didn't notice when Spike came to sit beside him, flicking a butt into the hedge. "You know, he doesn't realize it." Spike's voice made him start and turn.

"Huh?"

"Rupes. Never been married. Don't think he planned on it, what with the job as head of White Hat Central."

"Maybe he would've been married with three kids by now, if Angel hadn't murdered his girlfriend." Xander spat back pointedly.

"Maybe so." Spike ignored the venom. "My point bein', I don't think he can smell fear like I do, and I don't think he realized the more he talked, the more you stank."

"I am not afraid, alright?" Xander's eyes glowed furiously, and then dimmed. "I'm not afraid to marry her."

"I get that, Idiot Boy. You're afraid about the house and the life after the wedding."

"If you saw my parents' 'after the wedding', you'd be wigged, too." Xander mumbled.

"Ha. Try buildin' a life based on the Angelus and Darla model. Talk about a plan for failure." He muttered. The two exchanged a rueful glance. "I'm big on the whole 'she's the one, it's forever'." Spike waggled his fingers in the distance, as if heralding some magic future he could see. "But I'm findin' out stuff. An' since you so kindly gave me a Bud without the usual griping, insulting, or snarking, I will share it with you. If you want." He let the offer hang there. A tease.

"I don't want your secrets to eternal romance, thanks." Xander fought his curiosity.

"Good, since this has nothin' to do with eternity. Least on the face of it."

Curiosity won out. "If this isn't useful information, can I stake you?"

"No."

"Smack you?"

"You can glare."

"I'll take it." Xander hid the smile fighting to emerge.

"Here it is. You wanna live a happy life, right?"

"As happy as it gets on the Hellmouth." The future groom sighed.

"It takes time. One day, one night, little bit at a time. You don't think it will. You think- I told her, we're movin' forward, it's all gonna click- an' then it doesn't 'click'. It ticks along, workin' itself into place, it takes time. It's the long game, it's the complicated one, an' people have to be on your team... or you'll never win." Spike's voice drifted as he reminded himself of this new realization as much as tried to tell Xander.

"I'm sorry... that wasn't very encouraging. Was it supposed to be?" Xander asked after a few seconds of replaying the words in his head.

"You missed the point." Spike snapped.

"You hid it pretty well." Xander snapped back.

With a grunt, Spike summed it up more neatly. "You're worried about the next parts. Houses, livin' together, yeah?"

"Not exactly _worried_..."

"Right, scared shitless."

"Go back to worried."

"You're worried about all the next big things, an' Mr. Caution made it worse. He's a born planner. Plans are good, but you can build them, make them happen, one little piece at a time."

"I've been building one piece at a time. Anya wants the whole world at once." Xander admitted before he recalled who his confidant was.

"Yeah, but see, she was immortal. Thousands of years to fill. Now she's got about eighty an' that's the lot. See, I'm the same way. I'm not goin' anywhere, but-" He shrugged and decided not to screw around too much with euphemisms, "the person I love is. Already did. You get a second chance in my case, an' you want it all to happen over night. But all at once doesn't give you any extra guarantee, does it? No. Give me a little more every night, make things happen a little bit more every day. Get a hell of a lot more chances to get it right, that's for damn sure."

"I could do that." Xander darted a shifty glance to the side. Part of him - a large part, wanted to grill Spike about the implied relationship that was being built between him and Buffy. The other part, the louder and more insistent part, wanted to keep talking. He hadn't had a guy friend he was close to since Oz left. And Oz wasn't exactly verbal. Giles was great, but he wasn't exactly on the same setting as a twenty-something guy. Except for the band candy night and that just went all kinds of bad. "So you. Immortal type with some sort of- time constraint," he coughed and hurried over that part and its worrisome implications, "this little at a time deal works for you?"

Spike nodded. "I think so. I think it'll work for you, too. Anya, bless her over eager brain, wants all the trimmings, but she wants 'em with _you_. Spending life with you, however you go through it, that's what she'll want. Long as she's your wife- poor creature, that'll be the main thing."

Xander glared at him for the unwelcome jibe, but plowed ahead."How do you know that?"

"Your bird is the big picture sort. Makes her funny as hell to talk to." Spike snorted out a laugh.

"You see that? I totally think that, too!" Xander's stiff countenance gave way to a genuine smile.

"Prefer the blunt side to the valley girl slang Buffy trots out."

"Don't knock Buff."

"Not gonna. You get to miss things, appreciate things if you didn't have 'em around. Or for other reasons." _Like fallin' in love. _

Xander bounced his knuckles against his knees. Spike saving and helping and not being such a bad guy to talk to weighed against Spike being evil and soulless and _not human_. "You're not going after her, are you?"

"Anya? Bloody hell, no. Friends at best."

"I meant Buffy."

Spike mulled that over for a mere second before replying. "No. No more chasin' after her. But I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm just gonna be here. If she needs anything."

_Oh God... gut-wrenching stomach turning words about to form. Remember he saved Dawn this morning, remember he's the reason we're celebrating tonight instead of scouring the streets, praying no one hurt her, praying we can find her... _"Okay. I can respect that."

Utterly gobsmacked for a minute, Spike felt the need to make a joke as soon as his voice could function. "Don't say that too loud, bring on another soddin' apocalypse."

"Do-over, do- over!" Xander cried comically.

There was a grin, maybe a gruff laugh. The two men sat on the steps and looked at the night, seeing roads ahead. One finally thinking he was near the finish line, the other realizing he'd been given an entirely new race to run.

"Where's my handsome husband-to-be?" Anya's voice interrupted the laughter starting to fade, the heaviness starting to form.

Xander replied instantly, the tinge of amusement and sarcasm back in his voice."I was escaping from the magazines, but if it's safe to come in..."

"It's safe. We're going to go dress shopping this weekend. So much more fun than pictures." Anya stuck her head out of the door as Xander and Spike rose from the steps.

"But we didn't even set a date." Xander pointed out.

"That's okay. It's shopping, not buying."

Spike and Xander managed to sneak a glance at each other. "I don't understand it, I've just accepted it." Spike hissed as they followed her in.

"Do not question, just embrace." Xander nodded, ran a few steps to catch Anya around the waist. "Very embraceable." Anya squealed.

"Awwww." Dawn, Tara, and Willow chorused. Giles smiled paternally. Buffy meandered over to Spike.

"You okay?" He muttered from the corner of his mouth.

"Yeppers. Although I think I damaged my retinas looking at the new 'Neon Elegance' line of formal wear."

"There is no such thing."

"They have a full color layout for you if you want your eyes to sting." Buffy smiled up at him playfully.

"Nah... think I'm gonna head out, alright? Windin' down here." He looked around the still happy, but more subdued throng.

"I should patrol." Buffy stretched and looked behind her, noticing the group as well.

"I can handle it for you. Although the way I went last night, I imagine most demons are stayin' in tonight."

Her eyes flickered at her friends and back to him. "I really wanted a little quiet time. With Dawn. But she's so excited. She's going to be a bridesmaid. She's doesn't need sister cuddling."

"Want me to help clear 'em out? I can throw a fit an' be uncharacteristically annoyin'." She stifled a laugh. "Or I could just cuddle you if you want." Spike meant it as a joke.

She didn't seem to take it that way. "I don't want to stay out too long." She said evasively, trying not feel the strange sparks stirring between them. Sparkage could be good. But not enough sparks to burn her again.

"Only jokin', Slayer, I wasn't-"

"So maybe we could just walk around for awhile, then come back?"

He nodded, swallowing his disbelief. "Lovely." He expected they'd slip out unnoticed, stroll around the block a few times, nip back in before they realized she'd gone.

Not so.

"We're gonna do a quick baddie run. Be back in an hour or less." Buffy snagged her sister.

"Are you okay?" Dawn asked quickly. "Is it too noisy? Are you tired?"

"Totally cool, I want a little head space. Then I'll be right back. Can we do old movies and yet more junk food?" Buffy stroked Dawn's thick glossy hair back.

"It's a school night." Dawn blinked.

"Is that my Dawn?" Buffy pretended to check for a fever. "Old cartoons then? C'mon, thirty minutes of big anvils, who doesn't love that?"

_I so love this_. "I love you, you Wascally Wabbit. It's a date." Dawn nudged Buffy back towards Spike.

"Congrats, guys." Buffy waved. She wanted to say it one more time, in case they left before she returned.

Xander unlocked his lips from Anya's. "Are you leaving?"

"Mini patrol. With Spike." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "I'll be fine." _I will be. Hm. How about that?_ She couldn't have imagined herself saying that, or even thinking it a few weeks ago. Now she'd said it to herself, to Spike, to everyone, a dozen times. And it had stopped being a lie. _I will be fine. Eventually._

"Be careful." Giles cautioned.

"Do you want some help?" Willow offered.

"Think we can handle it." Spike said brusquely.

"Wills, turn up the music and grab your honey." Xander pulled the redhead towards the stereo in the living room. He looked at Buffy, then past her, at Spike. "Take it easy."

"I will." Buffy reassured.

"Will do." Spike held the door open for her and nodded subtly to Xander.

* * *

Buffy inhaled the night air and the lack of giggling and music like she was drowning. "Heaven is so quiet. This world- it's like living inside a tiny box with a heavy metal band who never sleeps."

"Sorry, Pet."

"It's okay." She inhaled again. "This is better."

"It'll keep getting better. One little thing at a time."

"Yeah..." They moved along in silence for a bit, before she exclaimed, "Wow. Xander and Anya. _Married_."

"Happy for 'em." She gave him a doubtful look. "Honestly! More for her than him, really, but..."

"Speaking of 'him', you two were gone for awhile. No threats and snarking?"

"Oh no, lots of both, but nothin' to fret over. You noticed I was gone?" He was pleased, and preened slightly.

"Are you kidding? Of course I did!" She slapped his arm lightly, then caught the smug look on his face. "I mean, no. Not at all."

_She's teasing me. Oh God, yes, one thing at a time, kisses and teasing me and missing me. Maybe this is how people fall in love. It sure as hell wasn't love at first sight, and I've already done the unrequited bit._ "Maybe it's just me then. Missin' you whenever I can't see you."

Her stomach tingled. "Maybe not."

More unspeaking steps. Then, "Define 'miss'?" She asked in that bright, quizzical tone.

He laughed, reached over, pulled her hand into his. "It's when you keep thinking about doin' that."_ An' a hell of a lot more, but this is a good start._

"What about when you think about doing this?" She halted, turned and stepped in.

His eyes fluttered shut as he sank his mouth onto hers easily, like it had been done a thousand times before. Had been. Every day when he let himself have good, or at least bittersweet dream.

_Girl makes my dreams come true, an' all she has to do is kiss me, smile at me, talk to me like I'm her friend. _

Buffy was startled when he finished the kiss almost roughly, a twist of his lips and a brush of harsh pressure from his jaw to hers as he pulled away.

He panted and stared at her, some cross between incredulous happiness and sparks of irritation in his dark blue eyes."C'mon. Back to the house. I'm gettin' you a drink." He grabbed her by the wrist and wheeled around.

"What? Why?" She dug her heels in and hung back, refusing to be moved.

"You won another round of the 'Happiness Game', you little brat."

Buffy protested, wide eyed. "But I wasn't even playing! I passed!"

"Then you cheat."

"And you're playing fair."

They stared. It was true. Unintentional, but true.

_Well, hello and welcome to a parallel universe. And that's really not something to joke about on a Hellmouth._

"Things change?" He offered.

She accepted. "Change can be good."

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's note: Everyone seems to like shorter chapters but more frequent updates. So, here's a little snippet, because otherwise this chapter was going to be long and take me until the weekend to finish. So... hope you like the little taste. It's a transition chapter, so not hugely significant, but still hope you enjoy._

_Dedicated to NeonRaver, ginar369, Alexiarrose, haleycc, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, Teddybear-514, Lyzzybelle, Rosalea12, ladyamadaun, and MaireAilbhe._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part VIII**

"Oh boy am I glad to see you." Spike arrived on the front porch the night after Xander and Anya's impromptu celebration, and didn't even get to knock. Dawn swung the door open and practically fell out of it in her eagerness to grab his sleeve.

"What is it?" He was instantly on the alert, nostrils went wide, eyes went narrow. "Those boys aren't back, are they?"

"No, nothing like that." Dawn waved his words away. "Nothing related to evil."

"Don't be so sure. Our pipes are possessed." Buffy called from the kitchen, and then a door slammed.

"Dammit, shouldn't have stopped off at the butcher's, I hate comin' in to the movie in the middle." Spike grumbled and looked at his pint-sized pal to explain.

Dawn's face became more downcast. "The loan application got rejected. Even though Willow and Anya cooked up something really convincing about equity and stuff, and crunched numbers, and Willow went to the bank with Buffy and everything..." Dawn looked worried and pulled herself up on the edge of the kitchen counter and grabbed a bag of cookies to her chest.

"Idiot stuffed suits..." Spike took a chocolate chip cookie she held out to him. "She's upset, I take it?"

"Bummed. She looks all stressed again. Last night she seemed really happy."

His heart was long stilled but somehow words like that managed to make it flutter. He had a momentary idle thought that maybe slayers could kiss vampires and make them better, like princesses in storybooks, because he had felt pretty damn lively in the last day or so. If that was true- maybe the right vamp could kiss the girl back to life...But that wasn't the point. Dawn was still speaking.

"- working tonight at the tech center and Tara went into the shop tonight since she and Anya won't be at the store tomorrow." Her frown vanished long enough for her to let out a girlish giggle. "Dress shopping!" She squealed.

"Sounds like it's been a bad day, but it could've been worse." Spike smiled at her enthusiasm. "Maybe a day hunting down frocks will make Buffy feel better after dealing with the banking bloke."

"I hope so."_ I like her this way. I mean- not when she's sad, or when she hurts. But when she wants to watch cartoons with me. Just me. When she packs my lunch- even if she gets sidetracked with what she's putting in, and I end up with two pudding cups and an apple. I can live off that._ "When she got home from work, she went down to check on the patch job, and it was leaking."

"Bollocks." He swore quietly and looked to the ceiling. "Why can't she catch a break?"

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "When the local Big Bad wants the local hero to catch a break, that _is _kind of a break."

He shrugged and twirled the snack in his hand."Maybe. Does your sis know anything about plumbing?"

"She knows the water is supposed to stay _inside_ the pipes." Dawn grinned. "Other than that- no. I told her to let me call Xander, but she doesn't want to bother him. He already covered for her at work today. She said she could figure it out."

"Should we go check?"

"You can. I have to call Janice. She's mad at me for not hanging out with her lately. She doesn't know Buffy was 'away', so she doesn't understand my sudden obsession with hanging out with her now that she's 'back'."

"Oh, Pidge. Sometimes that's the hardest bit, init?" Spike patted her arm once. The secrets all of them kept... He could go on about that, but it wouldn't do any good. He bit down on the cookie.

"I don't think she's as mad at me as much as she's miffed about not getting to go out with some senior she met at the mall the other night. Her mom won't let her date unless it's a double."

"Double? Date? _Date_? _Senior_?" Spike spluttered crumbs as he swallowed the cookie. "You can't date! I haven't met him! Has Buffy met him? When was this happening?"

Dawn suppressed a giggle and brushed crumbs off her knee. "Halloween. But we're supposed to go help Giles do crowd control that night. Anya's having a super mega sale at the Magic Box. I think she called it a 'Halloween Bone-anaza' . Get it? Bones? Skeletons?"

"Very chintzy, but back to this boy _I haven't met_." He managed to look threateningly at her.

"Calm down, I'm not going! I didn't even know him. He was just going to be a friend of Janice's date, so it could be a double date, the only kind her mom'll let her go on. Since I'm not going, now she can't go. Hence, mad at me." Dawn sighed dramatically and swung her sneakers.

"Alright, but you listen. When you go out on a date- you should know him very, _very _well, an' I wanna meet him. And Slayer has to. An' maybe Giles, one of us has to-"

"Spike, that's cool with me." Dawn tried to stem the tide of words. She failed.

"An' you're gonna wear a huge cross, d'you hear me?"

"What if he's like-Jewish or something? I don't want to offend him."

"Red is Jewish and she swings a mean cross, Niblet. Extenuatin' circumstances, includin' livin' on a Hellmouth. Besides which, if he's a Jewish _vampire_ I _want_ him to be offended! I want him to be bloody brassed off an' run away screamin'!"

"You're insane." Dawn gave him a quizzical look, one smooth eyebrow climbing.

"I know half the birds in Sunnydale can't tell a live man from a dead one! Makes it very easy to maintain the vamp lifestyle, but doesn't do so good for the local female population. An' no, I'm not bein' sexist, none of the boys 'round here can tell a live girl from a vampire either, all they see is some pretty thing looking at them an' boom. Your neck has a tap in it."

"You're freaking out." Dawn scooted down from the counter. "You're getting all squirmy 'cause I said the word date!"

He spat back defensively, "I am not, I'm just..." He trailed off and then blustered, "You go eat your cookies, I'm gonna go see Buffy." Spike shrugged out of his coat, stormed past her, ignoring the snickering, and trotted down to the basement.

"Spike?" Buffy looked over her shoulder. She had a book in one hand and a plumber's wrench in the other.

"Your sister! Gonna give me gray hairs!" Spike cried in a beleaguered voice.

Buffy chewed the inside of her cheek. "Is that possible for you?"

Spike paused. "I dunno. But with her, it very well could be!"

"Now you get the annoyance thing I complained about." Buffy smiled grimly and looked at the open text again.

The world stopped bouncing along on trivialities. "She loves you. She's a great girl." Spike was quick to remind her.

Buffy saw his worried expression and reassured him in a quiet, semi-lifeless voice. "Don't worry, I'm not having a heaven-missing moment. Not because of that anyway. Do you know in heaven there's no plumbing? There's not even a house to put pipes in, and I didn't even miss it." She put the book down and looked nervously over her head at a pipe dripping water steadily.

"Yes, Luv, but no one would need it, would they?" Spike sauntered over and lightly touched her shoulder. "Heard about the bank. Sorry."

"It's okay. We'll just take good care of the patch job and save up." She gave another grim, tense smile as she raised the wrench. "We just need to tighten this- thingy."

"Valve. Um, Luv, do you know what you're doing?" Spike picked up the book beside her. "_The Contractor's Plumbing Reference_." He read the title aloud.

"I borrowed it from one of the guys at work, Xander said he does plumbing on the side."

"An' he didn't have anything... simpler? _Plumbing for The Beginner_?" _Or "Plumbing for Dummies", "Plumbing for those Unfamiliar with Pipes and Tools",_ _perhaps_? _Maybe some sort of picture book, not that she isn't smart, she's just not... handy._

"Are you saying I can't handle this?" Buffy locked the wrench's jaws around the valve and grunted. There was a sudden creak, then a snap, and then a single geyser came spraying and gushing forth, all over Buffy's head. _You'd be right if you were_.

Amidst the startled scream she let out, Spike tugged her back as she was spitting water and blinking. Buffy coughed and gasped as the water continued to pour.

"Where's the main water supply?" Spike shouted and pulled her farther out of range, now drenched himself.

"Back corner- opposite the circuit breakers!" Buffy fruitlessly pushed her hand over the gushing hole where the valve had once been, also picking up the sopping reference guide. "Oh, this is awful! This was a borrowed book!"

"You're worried about the flamin' book?" Spike jerked the shut off into a stopped position and turned to her. _God, she looks good wet..._

"No!" Buffy spat, lowering her hand as the water slowed. "I'm worried because I have a house that's falling apart and I can't even turn the- the circle thing the right way and I'm so freakishly strong I broke it right off, and the bank guy hated me and said they only give loans to 'responsible homeowners', and I'm not even supposed to be alive let alone be a 'homeowner'!"

"Buffy-" Spike reached for her only to be swatted away.

"Now my clothes are ruined and I can't do laundry because you shut the water off!" What started off as an angry rush of words had narrowed to a high pitched wail. "And I'm wet!" She stomped her foot and then turned, letting herself face-plant and grunt out a string of muffled sobs and curses on Spike's wet black t-shirt, clinging to every ridge of muscle.

"If it helps- you look good when you're wet." He patted her back and put his on hers.

"You look good when you're wet, too!" Buffy sniffled and wiped her eyes- but as her hand was wet it didn't help.

"Oh, Luv... We'll fix it. I promise, we'll fix it."

"You always keep your promises, don't you?" He was comfort. He was strength. Someone who would hold her when she was falling apart and not ask why. He said he'd make her happy. He said he'd ease the pain. He said he'd save her. Every night he'd save her. He did. And never made her look weak doing it, even though she fully admitted she was beyond weak now, she was half-dead, just alive on the outside, coming back to life slowly inside.

His words caught in his throat. He'd stood between Dawn and the knife. Promised to keep her safe. And he fell. Broken promise, broken bones, then in moments, broken bodies and broken hearts.

"I do try, Luv. I'll keep this one."

"I know." _I know you tried. I know you'll win._

* * *

That was how Dawn found them, about two minutes later, after she'd managed to get Janice off the phone and muttered a little prayer to the patron saints of plumbers. Wet, hugging, in the middle of the basement in a wide splashed out puddle. Both of them had frozen looks on their faces, Spike's some form of deep concentration, Buffy's merely vacant and lost.

"Can I call Xander _now_?" Dawn demanded.

Buffy pushed away from Spike, and nodded. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up- oh. No, I have to wait until the water's back on. Which means Xander has to come over and fix this. Again. Which means for now- I'm going to go put on dry clothes, and still be dirty and smell like rusty water." Buffy moved away from Spike, slogging up the stairs and past Dawn.

She hesitated in the kitchen, then grabbed the portable, punched in some numbers. "Hi, Tara? Can you put Giles on? Yeah, I'll wait until he balances the drawer."

* * *

"What happened?" Dawn asked quietly.

_Well, Buffy saved the world, and her only sister's life. She had lost everything, and sacrificed herself so that her little sister, you, and all the people she loved, could have a shot at a better life in a world she tried so hard to protect and clean up. She was exhausted, because she'd done a lifetime's worth of work before she even made it to twenty one. She was scraped up and banged up until that look of peace wasn't just the last option, it was the _only_ option. She went off to get a heavenly and fitting reward, eternal rest, for an eternity's worth of pain put on a young woman's back. _

_ Then someone ripped her out of heaven and slammed her back into this bloody cesspool. _

_ But I can't tell you that. _Spike looked at the worried blue eyes and answered her in a tired voice. "Overloaded."_ Just one word, and it in no way describes the full shitiness of this situation, but it sure fits._

Dawn whined out a protest, not meaning to whine, simply frustrated and young and desperate for things to be okay. "She was feeling so much better! She-she was happy last night! We watched Looney Tunes and ate all the marshmallows out of the cereal. Well _she_ did, I don't like them."

Spike sighed and wiped damp hands through water soaked hair. "Niblet, you know how when someone is getting over a really bad disease, or a really terrible injury-"

"Like being stuck in a hell dimension?" Dawn bit her thumbnail and her eyes instantly began to fill.

_Or being pulled from heaven, because anything else would seem like hell in comparison... _"Yes, anything major like that. There are gonna be relapses."

Dawn seized onto the idea behind his words. She'd get better, then overdo it, get a little worse. "Like when you have the flu and you convince your mom you can go ride your bike for a couple hours, but then you come back in and your fever is up again."

"Uh. Sort of." Spike reluctantly accepted the analogy as he moved to join her on the stairs, stop standing in the spillage.

"She should have another day off, huh? Only the construction job isn't like that, you don't work, you don't get paid, and she's not going to want to take a day off when we need the money. Ooh, they don't have to work weekends, though. And this is going to be a really fun weekend, with dress shopping and then Halloween. Halloween is supposed to be bad guy free." Her face fell. "Only shopping with Anya is going to be like an endless roller coaster of formal wear, and as for Halloween, demons on the Hellmouth totally don't play fair."

"I'm sure Buffy'll love the outing. She loves all those girly things, dresses, shoes that match..." Spike trailed off.

"You can't think of anything else, can you?"

"Not jus' now, no." He admitted with a shrug. "But I'm gonna do my best to make sure she gets the night off on Halloween this year. I owe her one nice Halloween anyhow." He winced as he thought back to his first Halloween in Sunnydale. "As for the plumbing..." Spike's face seemed to shift, something hard and feral underneath the kind and concerned face Dawn always brought out in him. "I have an idea about that."

"What do you want me to do?"

_Keep out of it. This isn't something sweet and easy, this is down and dirty. Well, if the Slayer plays a little fast and loose, I think I will too._ On the surface however, he smiled reassuringly. "Not sure just yet. But you're gonna be my right hand man when I think of it."

* * *

"I'll pay you back, you get that, right?" Buffy paced the floor around the kitchen island, over and over again, one arm tight across her chest, as if she could physically hold down the tangle of worry and stress inside her. "I'm really sorry to bring it up, I know your money is held up in the mid-Atlantic or something." The feeling of helplessness, of losing control was swimming up out of her chest, into her throat now. _The house is flooding, bad plumbing, water turned off, unpaid bills, what kind of home am I making for Dawn? Not supposed to be here, can't handle this... Sure it's going to be fine, _eventually_. What if I can't make it to "eventually", ever think about that? And just 'cause you can't help yourself, doesn't mean you get to ask everyone else to help you either, at least not Giles, he does so much, and it wasn't his idea to drag you back here. Spike is an exception, but it's supposed to be a little bit at a time, and everything just seems so- big._ "You know what, this is a bad idea, I'm sorry I shouldn't have mentioned it, this isn't your problem."

"Buffy, Buffy, dear, please stop apologizing. You're most welcome to the money, and I know you'll pay me back as soon as you can." Giles hushed his young friend. "And I'm feeling quite offended that you think what concerns you doesn't concern all of us. Simply because it's never been a monetary issue before doesn't mean that it's any less of a group project."

_But it doesn't feel like that. This isn't world savage, this isn't slaying, this is bad money management and limited earning power for people who died and came back without a degree. It makes you feel poor and like you can't survive. I was done "surviving". Well, that was my opinion anyway._ She rested heavily against the counter. "I hate to ask. I _wouldn't_ ask, but I just screwed up the patch job. Now I have to call Xander and see if he can patch the patch job. This is so out of hand."

"I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

_Ha! You can't even think to the levels of badness which this covers. This is the cherry on the ice cream. No, compared to being resurrected out of heaven, a burst pipe is a _sprinkle_ on the ice cream._

"Oh, Buffy. I'll save you a call, Xander just popped in. He's here bringing dinner to Anya it seems."

There was a moment's scuffling noise and mumbling before Xander's chiding voice came on. "Buff? You been playing in my toolbox?"

"I borrowed _one_ wrench, there was a little, _tiny_ leak. Now there's a hole. And more of a leak." She put her head against the fridge with a sigh punctuating each short, chopped sounding sentence.

"I'll be right over." Xander sighed as well.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my idea-" _To be alive again. Can't say that._ "-to have the pipes start falling apart."

"I know, Buffster. But I don't think I can keep patching and patching the patches. We need to just get the pipes. I'd offer to help with the supplies, not just the labor, but Anya and I have -"

"A wedding, no, I know, I get it."

"Well, that and I have to move out of my parents' place sometime, and apartments want first and last months' rent and a security deposit." Across the counter, Anya choked on her sandwich, then beamed and mouthed "Really?" He nodded and beamed back. Anya gave someone a fifty percent discount for no reason and walked off humming.

_Totally just made her happy. Just saying I wanted to._ _Ha. Take that fear. In your face!_

With an effort, he refocused his attention. "I'd say no big deal, but my parents charge rent too, so it's like picking the less annoying of two evils."

"I get it." She tried not to feel bitter. It wasn't that she begrudged them the happiness, or the growing up and moving on. The world keeps turning. She just was having a moment where she regretted being in it.

"Giles wants to talk to you, hang on."

"Buffy. I couldn't help but overhear the last part of Xander's conversation. If you need the plumbing repairs to begin urgently, I insist you let me go with him and we'll buy the supplies, now, tonight."

"But your apartment money-"

"This is why the good Lord made credit cards."

"And home improvement stores that stay open until eleven." Xander chimed in.

"You guys..." Buffy felt the storm inside settling, heart re-anchoring. _I have good friends. Weird friends, crazy friends with their own lives- and they'll still try to help me with mine. _"Thanks."

"I'll be over to do house triage. I'll get what I need to fix it up and we'll start tomorrow I guess, if I can get any of the guys to come over on short notice."

"But I can't pay for the labor yet."

"We will manage." Giles said firmly.

"But-" A sharp click silenced her. "Xander's coming over!" Buffy called down the stairs.

"Okay." Dawn came up the steps and hugged her sister, even damp and dripping as she was.

"You still love me? Even if I can't plumb?" Buffy asked with a forlorn sigh.

"Totally. I mean, you can't cook, and eating's way more important, and I still love you."

"Hey! Monkey Face." The eldest sister pouted.

"Banana Brain." Dawn stuck out her tongue.

"Where's Spike?"

"He left. He said he'd be back. With something to make you feel better."

_But he _is _what makes me feel better._ Aloud she said, "I'm going to go get into something less soggy. Be down in a minute."

* * *

"Hey, Red. Gotta minute?"

Willow squeaked, dropped her chemistry book, knocked over her water bottle, and sent a mouse crashing off the desk. "Spike! This is my job! No vampires at work!" She hissed and stood up, face flaming as heads turned all across the computer lab adjacent to the tech center's desk. "Sorry." She apologized in a stage whisper, then glared at him, "You, me, and campus equals bad! Remember?"

He snorted derisively. "Years ago. I'm not here to make trouble. I'll be in an' out, two seconds." Spike also looked around furtively. "Just come from Buffy and Dawn's. I heard the loan application didn't go so well."

Willow's attitude changed immediately, face darkening, fists clenching. "Oh, he wouldn't listen at all, I tried to show him my pie chart and he-"

"Sorry, Luv, who?" Oh, this was working better than he'd planned. Red was definitely the right one to talk to.

"Mr. Savitsky. The loan officer at Buffy's bank. He barely looked at my pie chart! He was like 'You have no equity because the housing values have declined' and he wouldn't even look at the collateral value of the entire property against the repair, or my projections of how much it would raise the resale value." She frowned petulantly. "Poopy head. Chauvinist poopy head. As soon as he saw two young women were applying, he didn't think we were a good risk. I could tell."

"Bastard." Spike said firmly with an agreeing nod. "What was his name again?"

"Savitsky, I think his first name was Carl, but -" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

"Curious." Spike smirked.

Willow winced. Spike's smirks had varying degrees of obnoxiousness and evilness. This was in the darkly sneaky, up-to-no-good category.

"You're not gonna beat him up are you?" Willow asked in a worried, accusatory voice.

"Who, me?" Spike scoffed with feigned shock. "Red, I'm helpless as a kitten up a tree, you know that."

"Uh huh. A kitten who throws people thorough windshields." Willow pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Spike's smirk was replaced by flashing eyes and he dropped his shoulders, hunching over her with cold anger on his face. _Oh, shouldn't have said that..._

In a furious whisper he returned, "That was for Dawn an' you know that! That's not like beatin' someone up, that's like a bear defending its cub, a mum pulling a Volkswagen off a bassinet, like a wolf- what? What is it?" Willow was staring at him with this affectionate half simper, not at all the reaction he'd expected. Her mouth was half open, probably to say "awww", if he was a betting man. Which he was.

"Awww. Dawn's your cub? That's so sweet... I mean- weird and kinda creepy, but sweet."

"Hrm." Spike grunted uncomfortably. "Thanks. So- the guy wouldn't even give you a listen, huh?"

"No. But the patch job is holding and we can all save- why are you doing that?" Spike shook his head at her as she spoke. "It isn't?"

"Buffy and wrenches do not mix well. Now give her a stake an' she's infamous, but tools..."

Willow pushed her bangs out of her eyes with both hands and a frustrated huff of air. "And cars. What's up with that?"

"I don't know. Probably the universe compensatin'. Most girls aren't good with a wide variety of weaponry and bloody quick improv skills on the battlefield, not to mention Slayer havin' the speed and strength to carry it off. It makes sense she hasn't mastered the finer points of cars, kitchen appliances, and plumbing."

Willow had a lightening flash of thought, probably one best left to flicker out, just like a real bolt from the sky._ Spike would make a good boyfriend for Buffy. He loves Dawn. He's awesome at fighting bad guys, when he isn't one of them. He doesn't care if she can't cook, or if she does well in school. All he wants is her to be okay, wants her to be around. Although, there was that massively icky stalking thing going on for awhile. Still- if Buffy were into him, he could totally have some boyfriendliness beginning. Mind wandering. Come back, girl! _"So. The patch came unpatched. Uh- gee. Is everything okay?" Willow asked.

" 'Okay' is a stretch. Got the water shut off and Xander was on the phone with her when I ducked out."

"So why'd you come all the way over-"

"Do you have change for dollar?" Spike waved a dollar under her nose, seemingly pulling it form thin air. _Dollar bills, aces, concealed weapons... God, I love this coat._

"Uh- yes. Hold on." Willow reached into the front of her messenger bag and came out with a handful of quarters and dimes, counted out a dollar's worth and then Spike swapped with her.

"Ta."

"No problem. But-"

"Where's the candy machine?"

"Go past the bulletin board and the campus news rack, then it's down the left hallway."

"Thanks, Red. See you soon. have fun with the dress shoppin' tomorrow. Be strong." He winked and turned, jingling the change in his pocket.

"You're not kidding." Willow muttered, wincing as she pictured four to eight hours of ruffles, bows, and hot itchy dresses. With Anya. She waved as Spike trotted out of sight. "Wait a minute. What was that about?" She had a vaguely disconcerted feeling that she'd missed something. "Hey, Spike, what-"

"My computer is frozen and I have seventeen pages of my biology notes about to print!" A young man, almost in tears came up to Willow as she hovered beside her desk.

"Did you save?"

"Yes- but it's frozen and my disk is in it, man!"

"Right. I'm coming, calm down." Willow soothed and hurried away to the computer in distress like geeky St. Bernard.

* * *

Down the hall, Spike fed his money into the machine and hit a few buttons. A package of peanut butter cups fell out. Looking around, and seeing no one, he elbowed it hard as the next package was spiraling to the front and it fell too.

"There we go. Chocolate and information. One for now. One for later."

_To be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: Conniving, kissing, and yet more conniving. All for love._

_Author's Second note: So apparently had a grand old time with the site yesterday, and when I posted the new chapter, some people were able to post reviews, others were not, some received alerts but couldn't read the chapter, and some didn't even receive alerts. Sorry to have to post the same chapter a second time, but I don't want people to read chapter ten before nine if they missed the alert. Thanks for your patience. _

_Dedicated to NeonRaver, ginar369, Alexiarrose, haleycc, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, Mike13z50,Teddybear-514, Touch The Dark, Lyzzybelle, Rosalea12, ladyamadaun, and MaireAilbhe._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part IX**

"I'm looking for Ronny. Lucre demon? 'Bout so high, orange eyes, blue tint to his hair?" Spike dragged into Willy's much later than he'd have liked to. He didn't want Buffy and Dawn to think he'd run out on them, taking so long to get back. He did have a glimmer of comfort in the thought that by now they must be beginning to realize that he'd never do such a thing.

"Why?" Willy poured him a pint of blood in a thick glass mug and looked at him anxiously. Word travels fast in demon circles, and word of Spike's rampant killing spree had made the rounds already.

" 'Cause he's lucre demon, he knows everything about anything to do with money in this town."

"Yeah, well I give you that much. But I don't know where he-" Willy quailed under Spike's pointed "don't B.S. me" glare "- is at the moment. I _think_ he might be in the back. Private game, though, you can't go -" Spike was already off the stool, mug drained and stalking to the back. "Least I tried to warn him." Willy consoled himself.

* * *

"Hello chaps. Can I speak to Ronny for just a moment?" Spike came in without knocking and smarmed and charmed with sneer on his face as he surveyed the figures around a card table.

"Who invited the vamp? Demons only. No half-breeds." One ugly, hairy creature informed him.

"Very nice, very prejudiced of you." Spike lit up and smiled, unruffled. "I don't want to play, I want to speak to Ronny for just a moment. Please." He smiled a frosty, fake grin that only lived on his mouth, never traveled to his eyes.

"I don't know this punk." Ronny looked up from his hand, then looked back down.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Spike, William the bloody, Slayer of Slayers." _Now lover of one. _Some eyes darted nervously, but Ronny remained unimpressed.

"Look, buddy, I'm only talkin' to the guys I'm playing with."

"I see. And you have a full table already." Spike reached down, picked up the nearest demon by the neck, and pushed his thumb in hard. The demon let out a choking gasp. "Do you play by dead man's boots in this game?" Spike squeezed harder, and the players rose as one, fearful, freaked, or annoyed expressions on their faces. "I'm sorry." Spike sneered to the demon in his grasp. "I have to talk to Ronny. One way or another, and if there's only one way to get invited to play..."

"Geez, alright. I'll talk to you. Put him down."

"Oh, really, how kind of you." Spike dropped the creature, shook off his hand and motioned Ronny to step outside.

Once in the alley behind the bar, the lucre demon opened with, "You got a lot of balls, Mr. Spike."

"Just the usual number, it's all in what they're made of. Now. I need the name of a corrupt banker. Preferably someone in the loan or mortgage department."

Ronny stared at him with bulging orange eyes. "You almost killed a guy so you could ask me for a referral?"

"Not a referral, no. I have a friend who needs a bit of work done to her house, and a Mr. Savitsky at First Sunnydale shot her down. Unjustifiably."

"She had the right numbers for him?"

"A flippin' pie chart an' everything."

The vampire and the lucre demon both got puzzled expressions on their faces.

"Pie chart?"

"Numbers?"

"My friend went in with all the facts and figures, an' she had 'em done by a tough business woman who could turn profit on used chicken feet an' a girl who is literally a wizard with maths." Spike explained.

"So she wasn't tryin' to bribe him?"

"No! She just needs a few grand to do a bit of home repair, not finance a drug ring!"

"So why d'you need the names of dirty bankers?"

Spike sighed. He didn't want to show his hand or expose his plan. "Can you just give me a name?"

"Not without a little more to go on, East End."

Spike vamped slowly and methodically, he could control the transformation with an effort. The effort was worth it, watching the blue tinted skin turn an skim milk color. "See, Ronny, a lot of demons in this town owe each other favors, an' turns out, some of the humans are in the mix as well. What I need is a banker who owes someone a favor, and hopefully that someone will owe me a favor. D'you see? Circle of life here?"

"Oh, it's a beautiful circle, and I love it. But I'm a lucre demon, and you're just a vamp. People worship me. I make them rich. You're just a killing machine and I don't have to do anything for uppity half breeds with big fancy names."

Spike lunged out with one hand, compressed the windpipe of his orange- eyed annoyance and slammed his head into the brick wall of the bar's exterior. "Should've done this in the first place. I try to be a gentleman, see, an' look at the hassle." Spike's boot swung up and quickly caught a leg raising up to kick him. "Stop that. I tried it your way. Now we try it my way. Killing machine, was that what you called me?"

Instantly, Ronny seemed much more talkative, if wheezy and hard to hear. "John Groff. First Sunnydale. Junior loan officer. Had ties with M'Fashniks just after college."

"M'what nows?"

"Mercenary demons. They work for the highest bidder."

Spike loosened his grip so his informant could speak more freely. "What's the story?"

"I don't know... that's not my area, all I do is cast the spells and get the offerings, make the money."

"Mr. Groff is a devotee of yours?"

"Uh-huh."

"Interesting. And he owes M'whatevers a favor?"

"He pays them... a little at a time for whatever they did back in the day. Why he's been coming to me to grow the money, grease the wheels. He's going up through the bank quick, and getting sweet commissions, and he wants these guys paid off. You cross a M'Fashnik and they take their pay in blood."

"I like them already. There's one in town?"

"There's one in here tonight. Playing pool. But why you think he'll help you-"

"You helped me, didn't you?" Spike unvamped and released him, watching him slump to the dirty street, gasping and wide eyed. "I'm very persuasive."

"You're nuts."

"I prefer to think of it myself as a 'rule breaker'. Have a good night, and thanks ever so."

* * *

"You M'Fashnik?"

"I am a M'Fashnik demon, yes."

"I'm wondering if we could do a little business." Spike waited until the huge, muscular gray demon sank his last ball.

"If your price is right we can."

"Finally, a man who doesn't beat around the bush. Mr. Groff at the bank- owes you a little something, does he?"

"M' Fashniks collect debts to our clan. He owed my brother something for a service performed."

"Well, I'm wondering if you'd waive his debt."

"For the right price." That seemed to be his credo.

"Lovely, we'll come back to that. Can I buy you a beer?"

"After a price is set."

"Bloody hell, you people are driven." This was not met with a smile. Spike pushed on. "Right, here's the thing. I have a friend who needs a loan of a few thousand dollars, and I want this on the up and up. Well, _mainly_ on the up an' up, she wouldn't take stolen money an' I don't have time to 'earn it', like I'd planned."

"Go on."

"I want you to tell Mr. Groff the debt is cancelled if he whips her up something along the lines of a home equity loan or a home improvement loan. And in return, I do you a favor."

"Mr. Groff owes us seven thousand dollars."

"We'd better go to the barter system then." Spike sighed. "What can I interest you in, in terms of goods and services?"

"M'Fashniks live only to accumulate wealth and perform the tasks to accumulate wealth."

"Very goal oriented, I like that. But seven grand isn't happening."

The demon appeared to think and then bent low. "There is a H'thra demon who owed my family a great deal of money and hasn't paid his debt. But he's small and devious, and we haven't been able to catch him. It looks terrible for business."

"I can imagine. You want me to round him up for you?"

"If you bring me his head- I will get your friend the loan documents within a day."

"I'm not carryin' a head through town! I'd have to put it under my coat and it'd get gunk all over my peanut butter cups!" Spike frowned automatically.

"Peanut butter cups? Are those some sort of gel explosives?"

"No, it's some sort of milk chocolate with a creamy peanut butter filling an' it's the one candy my lady friend happens to have a real weakness for. C'mon, we'll go get you your H'thra head, you can see it with your own eyes, an' then you can do this loan, alright?"

"Absolutely. We shake on it."

Spike shook. A quill shot from the demon's wrist to his own. "Ow! Sod it!"

"That's our guarantee. Our 'signature'.We give you a blood promise."

"You do this loan for me, an' I'm gonna get you a box of pens, alright?" Spike walked out of the bar yet again, following the hulking demon in front of him apparently to the H'thra's lair.

_Behead demon- God I should've asked more about what a H'thra is..._

_ Then get to Buffy's. _

_ Present chocolate._

_ Make an arrangement to pick up the loan papers._

_ Go back, get loan papers to Buffy._

_ Whole damn night shot to hell._

_ Everything takes so bloody long when you do it the hard way. If this were a crime show, I'd already be in bed with the leading lady by now..._

* * *

"Glad you're still up. Thought you'd be in bed by now." Spike stumbled across the backyard and found Buffy sitting on the back porch, head bowed to her knees, just like she'd been that night she heard her mum was ill. Just like that night, he reflexively went and sat beside her.

"I was waiting for you." Buffy said simply.

His lips parted in a half smile, sort of like a cheeky bad boy grin. After all the nights he'd waited for her... "I'm sorry I took so long, Pet. How goes the plumbin'?"

"Expensively. Xander was here until about half an hour ago, making a list of every pipe and part and tool we need. He and Giles bought a new valve and one section of pipe just so we could get the water turned back on tonight. Tomorrow Xander is going back to the store with Giles' credit card and buying the rest." Buffy drug her hands wearily through her hair. "I feel so bad. The interest on that..."

"Slayer, don't worry about the interest, I'm sure the old boy has nice, low, respectable rates."

"I wanted to wait to start the major overhauling, but we can't. Xander said he's going to try to see if he can get some of the guys over to help, but it's a Saturday and there's like _no_ notice. Plus I can't really pay them right now. So we'll see what happens." Buffy looked up at the night sky. "It's stupid, isn't it?"

"What?"

"I'm just one little person down here. One little person and it's a big, fat universe, but all I seem to worry about is me and a couple others. At least since I came back."

"You saved the world, Slayer, think you're allowed a little time to focus on household chores." Spike quipped.

She shrugged. "In heaven you just get used to not worrying at all."

"Sorry." He squeezed her hand. "Know it's hard, and I know it's not like one day you wake up, feelin' magically better about the shitty hand you got dealt. _Twice_."

"Three times, if you count the couple minutes I was dead in high school." She muttered. "I'm sorry. I'm whining."

"You know, that's what's stupid." He turned his face to hers with a frown. "You think when you complain, that you're whining. Hate to tell you, Luv, heroes are people too."

"What's a dead hero?" She sighed, knowing it was unnecessarily grim and mopey, but keeping her positive face on for Dawn and Xander, and then Willow and Tara, had just about made her jaw crack.

"A member of a very special, exclusive club." Spike quipped. It made her smile.

"You and me are in it?"

He'd meant her and Jesus, but well... "Me?"

"Yeah. You're technically dead but moving around."

"I was stuck on the hero part."

Her words moved easily from her brain, no second guesses tonight. "You helped prevent an apocalypse. You save people. You were willing to die for people. If that's my 'heroic' description, it's yours too."

His hand found hers more firmly, entrenched in sudden stillness. Fingers wove together, then locked, resting on knees that were pressed together, one of hers, one of his. "Thanks, Luv."

"You're welcome."

Nothing but the rustle of wind and some branches rattling as they blew in it for a few minutes. Then he was off, lecturing in a laid back voice that never made it seem like a lecture, or advice, just simply Spike talking, 'cause you couldn't shut him up anyway.

"You're a person. You're gonna have problems, hero or not, long as you live on this planet. You're allowed to open up and tell people what pisses you off. We don't take it as you whinin' at us. We want to yell along with you, tell you you're right, the loan officer at the bank is a lousy son of a bitch, and the price of copper is outrageous, and who the hell writes the reference guides for plumbers? Some M.I.T. grad with a sadistic side?"

She snickered and let her head fall on his shoulder. "Cable companies charge way too much."

"I know! An' you don't even get BBC America. Don't know what you're payin' for."

"Nice shoes are outrageously unfriendly to young people with no money, too."

"You'd think they'd want us all barefoot." They were getting into it, and her smile seemed to lock in and hold steady.

"My friends can be total booger brains sometimes."

"Cabbages, the lot."

"But they love me like crazy."

"To the end of the world- and after."

"You're just a yes man, aren't you?"

"For you, Luv, I've been all kinds of people." _And in just one night, too._

She let out a deep, soul lifting sigh. "Thanks. I needed to vent."

"Always happy to lend and ear." He dwelt on the feel of her hand in his, warm and intertwined for a few moments. _Wish the touch of my hand could make you light up the same way yours does to me. _He gave her a lopsided grin. "Know what else is good for the blues?"

"Jazz?"

"Not that kind of blues. Ah, see, look at that, you're makin' cracks, you must be feelin' better!"

"I do. I do feel better. I'm totally stoked to spend a whole day looking at dresses and trying on whatever ones I want just because I can. And purses. Tiny little purses that would never hold a stake, so I'll never carry one, but tomorrow- I'm going to just pile all of them up in a bundle and hug them." She gave him a childish, giggling grin.

He gave her an appraising stare. "Damn it, you're cute. I always had it in my head you were beautiful and sexy, but you're cute as well."

Buffy blushed. "Thanks. I uh- it's really late and I have to be perky and enthusiastic for about a six hour stretch tomorrow. I've never been a bridesmaid before. Apparently we gush." They shared a little laugh.

"Right. It's okay." He stood when she stood. "I jus' wanted to come back an' make sure the house wasn't afloat."

"Har har har."

"And give you these." He fished into his coat pocket and held out two packets of peanut butter cups. "They might be a bit squished, but not melted. 'Cause I have to be doin' a lot to heat up to the point where somethin' melts." _Like makin' love to you. Never made love to a human before, let alone you, Slayer, but bein' wrapped inside your silk... God, I might burst into flame, an' let you ride the blazes out..._

Buffy took the candy in her hands like someone had put rubies in her palms. "These are my absolute favorite." She curled her fingers tightly over them._ Do not cry. Do not cry over a handful of cheap candy. But it's my favorite. How'd he know that?_

Spike nodded, a discreet smile on his lips. "Dawn told me. How you used to raid the boxes of candy at Valentine's Day lookin' for the ones with peanut butter centers, an' how you used to trade away all the rest of your Halloween candy for these. Also mentioned you used to steal 'em out of her trick or treat bag bag."

"I did not! That was Mom!" Buffy cried indignantly. "Usually." She let out a guilty giggle and tore open the edge of one pack. "Here, take one."

"No, those are for you!"

"But I have four, I can share one."

"No." He said firmly. Nonetheless his insides were turning straight to mush._ Her favorite treat in the world, and what's the first thing she does? Offers me some of it. She might have been pulled out of heaven, but she brings me a taste of it._ He felt like he could float, high on happiness.

"I'm not tired yet." Buffy nibbled a piece out of one chocolate circle and then tucked them carefully in her jeans' pocket. "You?"

"Not at all." _Sore maybe, but alert._

"Want to take a walk around the block?"

"I would love to." _Even though I might be walkin' like an old man._ H'thra demons were little and slippery and he had the limp to prove it. Bloody lizard-like thing damn near broke his ankle.

Buffy slid her arm through his as if slotting a piece into a puzzle. It just fit. With the other hand, she retrieved her treat and took a bigger bite, making one cheek bulge like a chipmunk's. "Mmmm. Mese ur tho ood."

"If that's s'posed to be Fyarl, Pet, you're doin' it all wrong."

She snickered and swallowed. "Mmm, these are so good!" The petite blonde on his arm restated with a wide grin.

T_hat's why I did it. Not just 'cause they're her favorite, but it's bringing back a _bunch_ of favorites, old memories, good moments._

"I feel like I haven't had one of these in _forever_." _No wonder. It did feel like being gone forever, maybe that's why it's so hard to be back. _She took another distracting and delicious bite."Mm. Mmmm. These are the yummiest things in the world_._"

"Not half as delicious as you." They weren't even all the way to the property line when he stopped._ Here we go. I threatened a lucre demon and some demon-supremacist bigots into submission, I did a deal with a mercenary, I conned Willow in a nice, gentlemanly way, and I decapitated a skinny twitchy little welcher. Be brave. _

Buffy's mind made one frantic cry as she let him turn her. _No! No, don't trust, don't relax, don't give in. He'll make you helpless, weak, break your heart. _

_ Sorry. I'm already all of those things, and none of them were caused by him._ Her eyelids slowly closed, all the air inside her froze.

This time it was _him,_ kissing _her_. It had never been like that, it had always been her instigating, when it was real, and that was good. He wanted that, because it meant she wanted him, it was her driving, and he was happy to go whatever road she wanted, as long as he was beside her in her travels.

_Oh, I can show you we're on the same path... I can show you there are whole new worlds to go to, or a thousand places right inside your mind, and all that has to happen for both of us to go is for you to be happy. Happy enough to be whole, an' maybe whole enough one day that you can give me a little piece of yourself._

_ Someday._

She shuddered as her spine seemed to untie itself from its half-frozen state, as her air rushed out, warm under his cold lips. "Mm."

"Hmm."

They'd never done that before, no sounds of pleasure.

He'd never felt her move against him before either, not in more than a gentle, sweet embrace. This time her hand stroked up his arm, then down his back, and massaged- yes, he was awake, not a dream, _massaged_ and kneaded one little patch of skin on side, just under the ribs.

"Infinitely more delicious." He purred, pulling back, afraid to stop, that she wouldn't let him continue. Afraid to continue, and that she'd ask him to stop. Where had all that bravado and brashness gone?

"You're yummy, too." She blushed and took a couple shallow breaths, still looking up at him.

"Thanks."

"Not chocolatey. Spike-y." He winced. "What?"

"Harmony." He twitched unpleasantly.

"Would you rather I called you Blondie Bear?" She asked, with pure malice in her eyes, a laugh skimming under her voice.

"You minx!" He smirked. "You remembered!"

Buffy picked up her chocolate and raised it in mock salute. "So did you."

Still so close, but not reentering the kiss. _Damn. Well, it was a good opener, gotta say that._ He smiled and teased her. "How much do I have to pay you to forget that particular bit?"

_Forgetting. In heaven, all the pain is just forgotten. Everything bad is forgotten. _

_ Then sometimes they force you to remember. _

_ No more forgetting. No more forcing. _

"Just give me new memories instead." Buffy whispered.

His eyes went from blue to black in dilation and desire. He was almost clumsy with how he scooted her back, not to continue their walk, not to sit on her porch, but to conceal themselves in the shrubbery just on the edge of the property instead. She sat down with a thump and he joined her, leaning in, necks craning, until they fell back.

_Oh my God. I'm lying down. His hand is on my stomach. _At first her muscles went rigid, her eyes flew open, staring at a the most beautiful, marblesque face, frozen in a kiss. Kissing _her_. Every tensed muscle uncoiled in unison.

_ Shit, stupid weak ankle, lost m'balance and now she'll think I'm trying to shag her, here, in the grass like a common pick up in the park._ "Sorry." He rasped and pulled her arm, sliding his own under her shoulders, sitting them back up together.

Her eyes lost their green in the darkness of this tiny patch of woods. Her fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket and she breathed heavily, pulling him back down as she lay back herself.

"Buffy..."

"I trust you." She murmured, and she did.

_Can your heart ever orgasm? Don't be coarse, William_. But he wanted to ask, because he thought that explosion of ultimate pleasure could only come from down below, and here it was, suddenly happening in in the center of his chest.

_Don't trust him! Not that you can't, but you just pulled him on top of you, he's going to think you want to have sex! _

_ I don't. Right?_

_ I wouldn't mind if he was close to me like this though. Warm, and safe. Even chocolatey. Heaven never had chocolatey._

This was going to undo him. Absolutely. It shouldn't be like this, shouldn't be here, in the open, and she wasn't ready for that, or she would have made it more plain. He didn't want to at the moment, anyway. This revelation sparked an angry inner argument.

_Don't be stupid!_

_ It's not stupid if you want to hear her say the words first. Maybe not "I love you." Maybe "I need you." Even "I want you." _

_ "I trust you" isn't close enough?_

_ Sorry. Not unless it's combined with one of the other key phrases. _

"Slayer?"

She hesitated, mind dazedly circling before responding,_ He's going to ask me what I'm doing, and I'm going to freeze up because I don't want him to leave and I don't want more and I've never been able to tell anyone exactly what I want, especially not guys I like. _

"Yes?" She asked nervously.

"I'm gonna melt your chocolate." He said in a strained voice.

Her mouth fell open. Then pursed, lips sealed, and her eyes blinked rapidly.

Spike stared. "You're not havin' as asthma attack are you? I don't think Slayers can have asthma."

A gurgling, spluttering noise emitted from her throat, a helpless, collapsing laugh that shook her whole body. "Spike..." She wheezed and pushed him off, still giggling.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"It's okay." On their sides, in the cool, damp grass, facing each other, a little space between them now. "Do you mind if I go in soon?"

" 'Course not. I can walk you in now." He prepared to get up.

_Wow. That was easy. Everything is easier with him. Especially when we're not fighting. Especially the _opposite_ of fighting._

She drew him back down, to his side, face to face, chest to chest. "In a few minutes..."

* * *

_Twenty minutes and four peanut butter cups later..._

"Not too melted." Buffy grinned.

"That's 'cause I stopped layin' on top of you." _Damn, that sounded much more innocent in my head._

"I'm all covered in grass and stuff." Buffy sat up and brushed herself down, blushing. She had enjoyed the feel of him halfway over her, the long, tangling, breath-stealing kisses that didn't have to lead to anything but what she wanted. What she wanted seemed so much less complicated when he was beside her. She wanted to feel better- and she was. "You're a mess, too."

"Not your fault, been a long night."

"Oh?"

_Don't tell her yet. God, what if she won't accept the loan if she hears I "encouraged" it? It's still a legal loan, from her very own bank. She has to. Or I had a very pointless evening._ "Just a little scrape with some guys at Willy's." He said truthfully, if incompletely.

"Poor you." She brushed her lips to his as she pulled a leaf from his hair.

Bloody fool. How could you ever think the night was pointless when she kissed you? Any day you see her has meaning, and don't you forget that, don't you push for more, you get a chance that's unheard of, and all at her expense. "Nothin' much, just vamp bigots."

"What? Racist vampires?"

"No, demons who hate vamps, 'cause we're half-human."

Buffy blinked. "That's weird."

"Earth, Hell dimensions, every place has some kinda prejudice."

Buffy nodded, now strolling leisurely back to the house. "I just never thought about it."

"They call vampires the 'lonely ones' 'cause we don't fit in anywhere." Spike lit a cigarette and watched the flame dance off the end of the silver lighter. "Demons don't want us 'cause we're part human, humans don't want us 'cause we're part demon. Stick with other vamps mostly, then if we decide we wanna go good- well, humans and demons still won't like us, just for different reasons."

_Half-human. What am I? All human outside, part ghost inside, part undead inside, part angel? No, angels are probably more optimistic._ "_I _like you." She smiled at him.

"Yeah?" He grinned and chuckled out a puff of gray. "Like you, too, Luv."

"Half and half. Freaks. Both of us." She didn't feel nearly as depressed when she said that this time, and she'd had lots of practice thinking she was a freak. It always hurt more than this.

"Like peanut butter cups."

"They were awesome."

"No, you an' me, we're like peanut butter cups. One kind of shell, different kind of filling."

"But both delicious." She nodded sagely

"Slayer..." _Gonna get me started. What the hell is she on, some sort of secret, innocent but seductive drug?_

"What?" She turned to him, eyes suddenly kittenish.

"Are you havin' me on?"

"No." She answered honestly, without even needing to think about her answer.

_Then what's this mean? You my girl? Can I remind you how much I love you? Can I ask you to dinner, can I ask you to bed?_ His mind was rushing along, and his eyes were frozen, freeze locked to hers.

Buffy saw it, saw all the questions in him, because she started to think about them herself. And as good as being with him was, the more seriously she missed him, the more troubling thoughts emerged, the more old wounds taunted her, and she resisted thinking too hard at all, about anything.

"You really meant it?"

"Yes." _Mean what, what's he going to ask? What am I going to _say_?_

_Don't ask. She has a way of simply letting you know, don't you see that now? _"You think I'm delicious?" His eyes twinkled faintly as he asked a simpler, more innocent and playful question.

She pushed the cigarette from his hand, and stomped it under her shoe as they reached the porch. "I'm sure. Could I double check though?"

He barely concealed his delight, keeping his expression cool and smirkingly confident with an effort. "Any time."

"Then I'll be checking a lot." She wound her wrists up over his shoulders and crossed them lazily behind his neck.

_See? Question unasked, but question answered. She wants more of me, more of us, and that's all I really need to know. _

_ More of him, more of that faintly mentholated and nicotine taste, more of him pulling me against his chest and snuggling me up, making the rest of the hell on earth fade away. _

She shifted, moving closer. Arms didn't seem to pull him close enough, or she didn't seem to_ feel _close enough. Her foot nudged its way up his faded black denim pant leg, vaguely wondering, Where is my leg going? _Oh, who cares, it makes him grab me tighter... _Buffy let herself make a small noise, a small, desperate noise.

_ Since when does she make that sound? That hungry little noise? Poor kitten, you need to find a lap to curl up on. Maybe a scratching post as well._

_ Holy crap, that can't be- oh no, its a stake in his pocket. Wait, that's not his pocket, is it?_

_ Should stop her, she's getting dangerously close to- oh. Guess I'm a bit late for that, aren't I?_

_ He's not a tree, stop climbing him! _Buffy resolutely dropped her knee from where it had wandered, up to rest between his thighs. _Hard, muscle-y, perfect to lean on thighs._

_ Her knee is about two inches away from the point where I can't pretend it's easy to control myself around her. I have to leave right now._

_ He has to go right now._

_ Why aren't I going?_

_ Why aren't I pushing him away?_

His tongue, as talented as any serpent's, found an incredibly sensitive spot on her inner cheek, just as her thumb accidentally grazed a soft spot on his throat.

_Oh, who cares?_

* * *

Eventually though, intoxicated senses swam up for some lucidity. "Well, Slayer. Satisfied?"

"Yep, definitely a ten on the delish-ometer." Buffy flushed and stepped away. "Thanks."

"You don't have to keep thanking me."

"But you like it when I do." She was surprised to see the facade she'd watched so often crack fall apart in a completely new way. The hard face twisted into a half-bashful, utterly smitten silly smile. The voice that could be so dark and raspy, or comforting and factual as it soothed her, was a deep chuckle with something shy underneath it.

"Yeah... I do." He confessed. _Bloody hell, I'm just one step away from sayin' "Aw shucks". Pull yourself together, man!_

She sighed a deep, contented sigh, and gave him one of her bright, glowing grins, the kind both of them had forgotten she had in her repertoire. "You're pretty awesome, Spike. You turned a totally crappy night into one of the best I've ever had just with some candy bars and kisses. Pretty kick ass."

"Gotta keep up with you, don't I?" He winked.

"Guess so. See you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. Maybe I'll bring you something else you like."

"Just bring you, and I'll be happy." She smiled and ducked inside the house, breathless and surprised at her own words. Half-dazed and high on kisses and chocolate, she floated up the stairs, wrapped in a cloud of badness-blocking happiness.

Had she looked back outside she would have seen Spike walking slowly across the lawn, back towards the rough end of town, head up, shoulders down and back, smile plastered to his face. Entranced. By her.

As it was, she didn't to see that. She tossed herself happily into bed, humming softly.

Next door, Dawn lifted her head from the pillow at the sound of a door shutting and then an unfamiliar, faint sound. Buffy. Coming in late. Humming? Yes, humming something like an upbeat waltz, something probably ingrained in her head from watching too many ice capades. Dawn snuggled back into her sleep with a grin. _I don't know what he did, but I'm so giving Spike a high-five tomorrow._

* * *

"Hey, you're back. You in for the five card tourney?" A voice addressed Spike as he prowled into a secluded corner of Willy's pool table area.

"Hm? Oh, Clem, hey." Spike looked past his poker buddy. _No M'Fashnik yet. _"Nah, I'm not playin' much these days. Got out of it over the summer. Fresh out of kittens, too."

"I understand. I only play in here now, where Willy keeps the stakes- oh sorry." The floppy skinned demon leaning on the wall beside Spike turned a shade of mottled pink at his choice of words, but Spike didn't even notice them. "I mean, where Willy's _house rules_ are reasonable. Some new 'boss' on the scene started playing purebreds only. Around here! Can you believe that?"

"Crazy world." Spike muttered absently, eyes scanning the room. Dammit, what if the little banker wouldn't play ball? What if Mr. Mercenary broke him in half for that, and then Buffy would invariably find out and kill _him_, for setting it all in motion. He really should start thinking with his head instead of his heart a bit more if he wanted this to go the distance. "You seen a M'Fashnik in here tonight?"

"Not since I came in."

"Hm. You in the game, you better get goin'." Spike prodded. _Here to wait for a deal, not for the socializing, Clem, take the hint..._

The hint was left where it was dropped. "Oh, I'm not playing tonight, I'm fixing the sink in the john."

"Really now?" Spike suddenly became much more interested in pursuing this conversation. Although a little warning bell did go off in his head. This many easy and beneficial coincidences had to have a horribly terrible price, cosmically and karmically speaking. Or even in simple gambling terms, his luck was sure to turn.

_Wait. It _has_ turned. This _is_ the good run, I had the bad run. Buffy's had the bad run. An' it's not like it's all fallin' into my lap, I've had to work for it, and she's fightin' to keep her head up every moment she's here. Won't hurt to ask._

"Handy with a wrench are you, Clem?" Spike inquired.

"Everyone on my dad's side is an electrician." Clem popped open a flap of skin on his cheek, showed something wormy and hissing moving about. "We have a natural affinity with shocks and wires." Something blue zinged inside the pouch of flesh before it closed. "But we're pretty good at nesthold repairs. My parents are retired in Alta Vista and they have the best nest in the city. All built and wired by hand, family job."

"Fascinating." Spike said with less than genuine interest. "Well, I'm workin' on a little project myself, and I could use someone with expertise in the area of DIY." Clem puffed out his pudgy chest and nodded. "D'you think you might be able to help me do a- um," _what's it called ? oh right, _"full copper refit?"

Clem grinned. "Finally taking your crypt from gothic to modern?"

"Nah, it's for a human friend."

Clem's grin disappeared. "Not that little skinless bag you've been chasing?"

Spike's eyes blazed with their own sort of blue shocks. "You watch your mouth!" He barked. Then dropped his voice and muttered from the corner of his grimly set lips. "How do you know 'bout her?"

"Oh c'mon man, everyone knows. Falling for a human, turning on your own kind..." Clem shook his head.

Spike laughed maliciously. "We do that, Clem. All of us. Demons are usually evil, turncoat bastards, and vampires are the worst, 'cause we play on both sides of the line, human and demon." Clem shrugged. "An' on the subject of my friend, I happen to think she's a very attractive woman." His eyes flickered a warning. "She could use a little help, an' I like to be 'helpful'."

Clem must not have recognized the little edge, being a naturally sweet natured and jovial type, not used to threats, hinted at or unspoken. "Well, I know enough about plumbing, and I'd help you out, but I'm afraid I'd gag the whole time I was there." He shivered. "That skin is just too tight to my way of thinking."

Spike's vampire visage emerged. "Keep thinking that way and I'm gonna rip open your face." Clem looked surprised, but not worried. His face was designed for that. Spike continued speaking evenly, "Then I'm gonna tear out everything inside of it."

Clem stood ramrod straight and looked horrified. "Take it easy, Spike. You keep acting like that to the nicer demons, and they're gonna get rough."

Spike sighed through gritted teeth. It wasn't Clem himself making him act hot headed, it was the slurs against Buffy. And Clem was pulling a double standard anyway, vamps were every bit as tight skinned. He was probably just antsy around humans. "Look, you ever been in love, Clem?"

"I have a girlfriend." He shot back defensively, clearly thrown off balance.

"Really?" Spike read defensiveness as "No, but I want you to think I do."

"Yes. She's just-she's not local. She's an Unseelie." Clem replied.

"Oh, guys like you, always the shy shape shifters and the invisible Unseelie." Spike mocked.

Clem huffed and confessed in a slightly embarrassed undertone, "Fine, no, I haven't been in love, I don't have a girlfriend."

"Well, look Clem." Spike put a friendly arm around him, then dropped his voice into a pitch black threatening tone. "If you ever are, you know you could do anything in the world for her- and gut anyone who talks badly about her. Even if it means you're gonna get ganged up on an' get the shit kicked out of you by the 'nice guys', because she matters most."

"Ahh." Clem nodded stiffly, instantly understanding- and instantly starting to see his life flashing before his eyes.

"You don't forgive insults to her lightly." The arm tightened menacingly, and Clem found himself looking into dark yellow eyes instead of the blue of a moment ago as Spike released him.

Clem nodded again, and spoke in a voice considerably higher and more wavery than normal, "Unless someone were to do a really nice favor for her?"

"Like a major household repair?"

"Like immediately?"

"Like possibly tomorrow. Only if you'd like, of course."

"Absolutely. A friend of Spike's is a friend of mine." Clem shared his rapidly revised sentiment.

"You, Sir, are a prince among repairmen."

"I'll give you my number."

"Thanks, mate." Spike was all smiles and pats on the back. "I'll call you when I've got the go ahead. Ah." Spike waved as the M'Fashnik demon came in, smiling and holding a thick white envelope. " 'Scuse me, Clem. I've gotta go do my victory lap."

_To be continued..._


	10. Chapter 10

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: Wordy. Mushy. Plot heavy. Sorry for the long delay, re-read the last two chapters if you need to catch up on any little details. _

_Dedicated to NeonRaver, ginar369, Alexiarrose, Sirius120, cavementftw, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, Teddybear-514, Touch The Dark, Lyzzybelle, Evelynferguson, _

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part X**

"I was reading in _Marie Claire_ that the bride should say something special to her bridesmaids- and best man-"

"Person!" Willow cried from her position, jammed in the backseat between Tara and Dawn.

"Her attendants," Anya amended, "when they go bridal shopping together for the first time. I wanted to say-"

"Look out!" Dawn screeched.

"Stupid arbitrary yellow lights." Anya blared her horn as she sailed through a recently turned red light.

"Are you trying to kill us before we even get to the bridal shop?" Willow clutched Tara's hand.

"No! I just hate driving in traffic. Anyway, I wanted to say-"

Buffy, riding shotgun, put her head back and tried not to groan aloud.

"I've been waiting to share this news all summer, and not telling any of you was physically painful. Literally. I started biting my tongue."

"I know how you feel." Tara piped up as Anya careened around a car turning left. "I just bit my lip. Honey, am I bleeding?" Tara turned to Willow and puffed out her lower lip.

"There it is! Bridal Dreams Wedding Boutique! Oooooh!" Anya's excitement was suddenly contagious. In spite of the harrowing car ride over in Xander's battered sedan, all the women in the party managed to squeal happily, Anya's infectious joy managing to burrow into even the most weary or skeptical hearts.

_ This might turn out to be a really good day. I'll stop worrying about all the other crap in my life and just enjoy this one great girls' day out._ Buffy unbuckled her seatbelt as they parked.

"Now, when we get in there, bride's dresses first. That's the most important. As for whatever you guys wear, I'm thinking something in a bright yellow or a dark green. I wouldn't say any of you look too amazing in those, but not hideous either. Which means _I'll _look the best. That's the bride's job. Okay, everybody follow me!"

_ Or maybe this is one of those new types of hell._ Buffy muted a sigh and trailed in after the beaming bride-to-be.

* * *

"I don't think we can get started, Giles." Xander backed the borrowed pick up around the back of the Summers' house.

"No?" Giles grunted and put his glasses up on top of his head, rubbing his lower back at the same time.

"I borrowed the truck at eight on a Saturday morning from one of the guys, and tools for plumbing from another at midnight last night. They said they're good on 'helping' this weekend . Everyone else I called last night or this morning was very, very drunk, hungover, sleepy, or half-awake. Not a good start for a crew."

"Dash it all." Giles climbed out of the truck and stood beside Xander, looking at the mass of bright pipes in the bed of the pickup. "Well, we can at least unload them."

"I'll go in and open the basement window, you start lowering them in?"

"It's a start. Better than nothing. After all, at the price of my compounding interest..."He suddenly looked stricken. As if the money mattered, when compared to his slayer. "How thoughtless, I-" He didn't have his glasses in the usual place to pull off and polish, so he rubbed his temple. "Please don't tell Buffy I said that."

"Said what?" Xander smiled quietly, and disappeared around the side of the house.

* * *

Giles shook his head and began to shoulder a piece of pipe, sighing as he watched the brunette, the boy becoming a man, move away.

Spike moved around the shady side of the yard, humming to himself, even the threat of being done to a crisp- for the second time in a few days, didn't deter the music in his head._ I've got a prezzie that'll lift her burden and light her right up- provided she doesn't ask too many questions. Or object too much. Or deck me._ The humming faded, and then came back, along with the smile on his pale face, hidden in the depths of his collar. He felt the thick wedge of paper under his flask, down in his coat where his hands were tucked. _This helps. Even if it royally pisses her off, it helps. And that's all I want anymore. To be a help to her._

He bounded up the steps of the front porch, coat coming down to its normal position as he got out of the sun. _This will make her day complete. She'll be in the clear- sort of, the plumbing worries won't weigh on her so much now that she has the money to pay for the repairs in her account already, and she can just worry about a day out with the ladies._

His fingers wrapped around the knob as he rapped lightly on the door. He blinked in surprise as the door swung open. "Buffy? Bit?"

No answer. He sniffed. Cocked his head. No fresh scent of either of them. _Must be shopping early, no surprise with Demon Gal practically pawing the ground. I can't just leave the papers. I wonder if the carpenter -_

"One at a- it's slipping!" A clanging sound and the young man's shout from the basement answered Spike's question for him.

Spike smirked. He considered slipping silently down the stairs. Then he considered the potential of getting hit with a pipe in the face- and possibly, what with his thick skull, causing a dent that would require a replacement pipe right off the bat.

_Bein' good takes all the fun out of my life... _He huffed and stomped towards the basement. Images of Buffy lying under him, actually_ lying under_ him, breathless, wide eyed, pulling him back for another kiss flooded his mind. _Alright. Not _all _the fun._

"Oi! Is this the plumbing help center?"

"Ow! Spike?" Xander turned towards the sound of the snarking, only to catch a small gauge pipe in the back of the head.

"Sorry!" Giles called from the window.

"D'you lot need a -" Spike looked at the single figure in the basement, glaring at him in puzzlement as he rubbed his head. "Lot seems to be an understatement. I thought the place would be full of able bodied blokes?"

"Yeah, well, not before noon on a Saturday when the lure of sleeping in, beer, and sports beckons." Xander sighed and motioned for Giles to start passing him more piping. "What are you doing here?"

"Something to run past Buffy. But-" Spike stepped out of his coat, winced as he stepped forward into the small rectangle of sunlight made by the window, and helped Xander lower in one of the biggest lengths. "Since I'm here..."

"Feel free to leave." Xander interjected quickly.

"If you'd like." Spike let go of the pipe, and Xander crashed to his knees with the full weight and awkward length of the long tube. Spike snagged the end of the cylinder before it hit the floor. "Or I could help with the heavy lifting."

"Please stay." Giles called through the open window. "Pity you can't come out here and shift this from the truck." Giles grunted.

"Why are you in here an' makin' him do all the pushin' and pullin'?" Spike chided.

"Because I'm the one doing all the running and lugging." Xander snapped. "If you're here, can you shut up and just catch copper?"

"Fine, bossy boots." Spike snapped and held out his arms.

* * *

"That's the last of it." Giles waved Xander back up. Spike stood and surveyed the basement floor.

"Bloody hell..." A dozen long, wide pipes, a dozen small, narrow ones, a handful of curved ones, tiny little fiddly bits, nozzles, tools and clamps, and Buffy's borrowed, water-logged book all lay on the floor around him. It must cost a fortune to even find someone who knows how all this connects up, let alone do it without parts being left over at the end.

Soon Giles and Xander were also standing in the basement, looking mildly ill as they stood ankle deep in a sea of shining metal.

"Got my money's worth." Giles tried to joke.

"Yep." Xander pushed up his plaid sleeves and squatted down, opening the large white metal box of plumbing tools.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked.

"What do you think? I'm getting started."

"You're not a plumber! Don't you go and screw all this up." Spike growled.

"Please. Was there even indoor plumbing when you were alive?"

"Yes! Sort of." Spike hastily dismissed the memories of archaic bathroom fixtures and focused on Xander instead. "I have a friend- he can do all sorts of home repairs. Let me call him."

"Just a moment!" Giles held up a warning finger. "We were to hire a crew!"

"She can't afford that." Spike protested as Xander said,

"I'm a crew of one."

"Yes, but-"

"Think we could install this ourselves, surprise Buffster?" Xander tossed out hopefully, looking overwhelmed but determined.

"With my friend, I think we could make a good start at least." Spike was eager, although privately had no faith Xander could pull this off without divine- or demonic- intervention.

For once we agree, Xander thought, but didn't say. "You shut off the water, I'll get the rest of the tools out of the truck.

Giles coughed pointedly. "I know you mean well. Both of you." He admitted with a forced smile. "Surprising Buffy would be lovely, but remember-she quite dislikes when people case aspersions on what she can or can't manage."

Spike snorted. "I know she can handle some cruddy piping and finding a few plumbers, and even payin' 'em off. She can do anything in the universe, but sometimes it's nice when you come home an' find a surprise. Some big worry lifted."

"My tongue and brain are literally trying to fight their way from my head as I say this, but- Spike's right on there. This is not one of the things Buff would mind if someone else helped with. If she was all into plumbing, she would know which way to turn a damn valve." He looked balefully overhead, recalling the patched patch job of the week.

"That's true. Home maintenance is hardly something she needs to focus on just now." The Watcher's hazel eyes went far away, images of a crumpled body, oddly peaceful, yet terribly tormented in death- now back. But not back. Quiet, subdued, exhausted, and... oh, words failed him. Simply different. "Without Joyce around- ah, she barely had time to mourn before-" His throat clogged.

"We were mournin' her." Spike whispered, own voice a dry husk.

"I'll get the tools." Xander said decisively.

"I'll call my mate." Spike headed up after him.

"Where's the stopcock?" Giles pushed up his own sleeves.

"The what?" Xander choked.

"It's in the corner, across from the circuit breakers." Spike pointed, then prodded Xander lightly enough not to get zapped. "The main water shutoff, idiot. You've got a dirty mind."

"Coming from you- no. Just _no_." Xander gagged. "And if your friend is a vampire-"

"He's not! He's a nice bloke, mainly deals in electrical work, but-"

"Is he human?"

"Not exactly."

"Spike, c'mon, I'm not having demons in Buffy's basement!"

"He's good, he's free, and he's harmless." Spike said with more surety than he should have- at least on one aspect.

Xander looked him in the eye as they reached the top of the staircase. "I'm only putting up with this because it's Buffy."

"To use one of the expressions she uses, an' I hate- 'ditto'." Spike glared back. "Go on then. Get your wrenches an' whatnot. I'll call Clem."

"Clem?" Xander said the name doubtfully.

"Think about her face when she comes home and finds most of the job done." Spike picked up the portable from the kitchen island.

Unaware of it, both men had identical pleased looks on their faces, though for different reasons.

"Yeah, that'd be a great end for a great day... I bet she's having fun. I bet they all are."

* * *

"This looks more fun in the magazines." Anya panted as she slid on another dress.

"The b-beaded ones are going to be heavier." Tara reminded her, fluffing the skirt.

"I think we should get all the ones you like in a pile, so you wouldn't have to put your clothes on between dresses." Dawn said sensibly.

"But every one I see is so pretty! I want them all!" Anya cried, facing the mirror, now in another long white gown.

"You look beautiful." Willow smiled. "Like a- a swan."

"With no feathers." Buffy added, watching Anya's face change from delighted to worried in the mirror.

"Oh good. Because while I hope that Xander and I will mate for life, like swans- I find them very creepy with their scooping, disproportionate necks."

"I meant elegant. Graceful." Willow clarified. "Which means that probably isn't the dress for you."

"Honey!" Tara gasped.

"I'm not graceful?" Anya's lip suddenly wobbled.

"Of course you are!" Dawn patted her bare shoulders. "But- but it isn't the first thing we say when we think about you." The teen smiled timidly.

"How about something... bolder?" Willow tried to put a positive spin on things. "For a strong, confident woman?"

"I want to look radiant. Like a princess. I was thinking a cross between Marilyn Monroe and Cinderella." Anya bit her lip in a gesture of nervous hopefulness.

Her four friends stared.

"Ummm." Buffy looked elsewhere.

" Th-that's a unique combination." Tara smiled.

"That's not going to be easy to find." Willow looked at the mass of white dresses.

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" Anya started fumbling for the zipper on the back of her gown. She mimicked a disapproving tone, "Anya spent her immortality hurting men, and now she's in love and wants a fantasy wedding and wants everything to be perfect..."

"Nothing is perfect." Dawn shrugged and caught the dress as it slumped to Anya's ribcage. "But it's going to be great. Right, guys?"

"Absolutely."

"Of course!"

"You'll see."

Anya heaved a sigh, and stepped out of the dress, and pulled on her street clothes yet again. "We'll narrow it down. Nothing short, nothing feathery, nothing with a neck or short sleeves. Either no sleeves or long sleeves. Something that matches my personality? First thing that your think of when you see me?"

_They don't make a dress that screams "I have no tact", _thought Willow, wide eyed, stalling by helping Tara put the dress back on the hanger.

_Forceful. A nice skirt suit would- no. She'd look like she was in her forties. Well, she's a thousand so maybe..._ Tara locked eyes with her lover, and silently confirmed they were both in the same situation, torn between politeness and honesty.

"Fun. Where's a dress that screams I'm beautiful and fun?" Dawn looked around eagerly.

Buffy's voice was low, musing. "Fairytale. Second chance. Finally."

The remaining members of the quintet paused in their tasks. "What, Buffy?" Willow put a hand on the blonde's arm.

"It should be a fairytale dress. Cinderella skirt- Monroe top. We can find that. Tight then poofy. It should be what Anya wants, because this is her 'finally'. Finally found the right one. It's a good feeling." Buffy smiled to herself as she concluded.

"The best feeling. Simple but so amazing. Finally." Anya turned and beamed at Buffy. "See, this is why you're the maid of honor."

"I am?" Buffy whipped her head around.

"She is?" Willow gasped.

"Yes. See, Xander has no biological siblings, but you two are his very best friends and he's emotionally adopted you. At points he's apparently wanted to have you in other ways- but that was before he met me." She smiled tightly at Willow. " As his oldest and dearest friend and 'sister' you're the best man-slash-person, and his chief attendant." Anya turned to Buffy with a broader grin. "As the other sister, and as a very good friend to me, you get to be the maid of honor. Tara, I hope you're not offended. Xander and I like you too! But as your pseudo familial role, I guess we'd class you as sister-in-law and -"

"I don't mind!" Tara cut her off with a giggle.

"Um. I have a question. I'm not a flower girl, am I?" Dawn raised her hand.

"No... I didn't think we could convince you to be one since you're a teenager. And very tall for your age." Anya patted Dawn's shoulder. "Is everyone okay with their roles in the wedding?"

Nods all around.

Buffy followed Anya from the dressing area back to the racks of dresses in a mild daze. _Maid of honor, me? Xander's "sister"? Well, yeah, I just never put it in words, but I guess we're family. All of us are family, especially now, when there's not much left. I guess I'm not surprised, either._

"Okay, visionary maid of honor!" Anya's voice rang out like a drill sergeant's, startling the only other group in the store, as well as her own party. "C'mon. Lead me to the 'Finally' dress. Tight top, poofy bottom."

Buffy winced at the harsh noise, having one of those moments where her soul, so used to the peace and quiet of a heavenly realm, shook inside her. The world seemed to tilt and sway, a mass of colors and florescent lights. But she held onto herself this time, focused her eyes on the cluster of loved ones in front of her, and then with a deep, steadying breath, looked past them. _All the pretty dresses. All my favorite girls in the world. Nothing to do for a few hours but play dress up_. "Dawn, Tara, Willow- you take the right side, Anya, you and me will take the left. Each group bring back at least three!" Buffy darted up with a mischievous smile, and grabbed Anya by the wrist. Giggling, they scattered.

"Oh! _Now_ it feels fun like the magazines say!" Anya cried as Buffy dragged her to the far wall.

"You're right! It does." Buffy smiled back, and dove into a sea of white lace and ruffles.

* * *

"Ready to admit we were right, Rupes?" Spike triumphantly lifted down a piece of corroded pipe and then stood back and admired the gleaming new section above their heads.

"No." Giles said complacently. "I will admit that when we have more than two pipes replaced and the water is turned back on, and the house doesn't float away like the ark in some sort of Old Testament-like flood."

"Spike? What time did your friend say he could come over?" Xander looked at the manual in his hand and down on the floor, a frown on his face.

"He should be here in any minute, he was ready to come an' help." _Should be. After I put the fear of a pissed off boyfriend- loved one- I dunno, whatever I am in Buffy's eyes, into him._ "Why? What's the matter, Boy Wonder?"

"Nothing." Xander said in a completely unconvincing way. "I'm just a little confused about this one part."

"Then for heaven's sake, let's skip that part and find something you're not confused about." Giles said nervously.

"You fight vampires. You've been speared in the chest, tortured, concussed, turned into a Fyarl demon. More than that, you've been with the Slayer since she was a perky little thing in miniskirts." Spike scoffed to the graying man beside him. "Are you really that nervous about making a plumbing boo boo?"

"It's Buffy's home. Yes. I _am._" Giles fixed both of the other friends turned repairmen with a drilling stare. "Aren't you?"

Xander and Spike exchanged a glance. "Down tools" Xander dropped the manual.

Spike stepped away from the toolbox. "No harm in waitin' a minute or two."

* * *

"Just five more minutes." Anya whined, turning Dawn critically before her.

"We've been here forever." Willow groaned.

"Growing teenager- needs lunch. Or almost dinner by this time." Dawn protested as Anya stepped back and surveyed her with a critical eye. "Do I pass?" She joked.

"It's not unattractive enough. The lines are too smooth."

"Anya- everything you pick is going to be 'unattractive enough' once you put it in yellow or dark green." Buffy pointed out.

"We'll all look like those pine tree air fresheners you put in cars." Tara laid her head to Willow's.

"One more dress." Anya scurried off. "Willow- it's your turn to be the model. Get up here." She called as she darted off.

As soon as Anya was out of sight, Dawn collapsed on one of the chairs in the fitting area. "I think she's still part demon."

Everyone laughed. "Can you have taffeta chaffing? Sweetie, is this chaffing?" Willow rolled up her sleeves.

"Who knew so many pretty dresses could be so itchy?" Tara examined her girlfriend's arm.

"I can't say. We haven't actually tried on any 'pretty' dresses." Buffy joked, and they all laughed again.

"Those were thirty one of the ugliest dresses I think they ever made." Dawn slipped out of the iridescent purple creation that was strangling her, and back into her jeans.

"You counted?" Tara giggled.

"I just wonder how she instinctively finds them." Willow groaned.

"She must have a built in 'This is bad' radar."

The friends sank back into seats, studying the long row of cast offs, and one beautiful, perfect white dress at the end. "But she found her dress."

"Yeah. We did a good job."

* * *

"I have to say- for humans, you do a nice job." Clem peered under the final sink.

"Well, for demons, we return the backhanded compliment." Xander wiped his forehead and straightened up.

"I must say, demon strength seems to come in handy for carrying and tightening difficult bolts."

"Well..." Clem shrugged modestly.

"Yeah, along with those creepy little worms inside you-"

"Gorgonitic hybrid beings." Clem corrected sharply, rubbing his arms. "Oh, wait I'm missing one."

"I rather think I've found him." Giles said with a forced smile holding out his hand where a tiny, slithering snake-like creature hissed and sparked.

"There you are!" Clem held out his hand, and in moments the being wiggled inside the loose skin and disappeared. "Sorry, what were you saying Xander?"

Xander tried not to gag. "The uh- little helpers you've got there. They kick butt at tightening little screws and they're not too bad at welding."

"We usually prefer to use them for smaller jobs, like soldering. What with my family being in the electrical business and all. But they do the job in a pinch." Clem smiled, pleased with the appreciation. "Y'know, humans aren't so bad. Speaking of pinching- that tight skin really comes in handy. I mean, you guys don't need any special attachments to get to small, hard to reach places." He held up his large, loose-skinned hands tipped with claws.

"So you have a lot of experience with wiring?" Xander's eyes suddenly lit up.

"Plenty! Family trade."

"My fiancee and I are looking into buying a fixer-upper, and -"

"You are?" Giles and Spike cried as one.

"Eventually, I was thinking about it. I know we can't afford a _new_ place."

"Does Anya know this?"

"No... But after she buys whatever dress she wants, I'm not going to have a problem explaining our strapped for cash status."

"Wow, if you need any help with a pre-inspection inspection I'd be happy to-"

"I'd be happy to go get somethin' fermented to drink." Spike muttered utter the technical conversation forming.

"Clem, you wanna beer?" Xander offered, overhearing the peroxide blonde's comment. "I think I have most of a six pack left in the fridge. Giles?"

"Uh. No, I won't, thank you."

"Somethin' stronger, Rupes?" Spike winked. "Scotch?"

"You have some?"

"Flask is upstairs."

The foursome moved upstairs wearily, demon and carpenter, Watcher and Vampire. "Americans." Spike muttered as Clem and Xander eagerly snagged bottles from the fridge.

"Brits." Clem shook his head as Spike and Giles were content to drink warm liquor.

Giles squinted. "Do you ever feel you've woken up from a very odd dream- and it's still going on?" He asked as Spike poured him a measure in the bottom of a coffee cup. _Xander and some demon electrician are laughing over beers in Buffy's kitchen. I'm drinking whiskey with a vampire in the house of a slayer. Perhaps most unbelievably- all of us have just replaced a majority of the plumbing in the basement, including the pipes responsible for the house's water supply._

"Only all the time." Spike smirked. "More?" He sloshed the flask.

"Yes, please."

* * *

"No peeking." Anya ordered.

"But-"

"When I count to three, you can open your eyes. I found the perfect dress, in the perfect color, too!"

Anya's four hostages (also known as bridesmaids) dutifully closed their eyes. They had spent an entire day in a sea of fabrics and colors, gone through the afternoon without lunch, had tried on shoes, carried bags, fooled with hairstyles, and caused at least two sales associates to go hide in the back of the store. "Hurray! But then we can leave, right?" Willow asked.

"As soon as I put the down payment on my dress. We better make some huge sales tomorrow to cover this."

"Halloween is a central observance for amateurs in the oc-occult." Tara soothed. "We'll do great."

"Okay, turn around, and open your eyes!" Anya clapped her hands to her cheeks in an agony of expectation.

Four pairs of eyes opened. Followed by mouths. No sound came out.

_I can't wear that. That's an insult to the color green. _

_ Maybe the bouquet will hide most of the ruffles. Maybe we can talk her into getting bouquets the size of Rhode Island. _

_ Be polite. Be polite. Be polite. Oh crap... Be polite. _Tara smiled and nodded once.

_Aww c'mon. I was buried in something nicer than thatI If I were a zombie, okay, maybe I could pull that off, but I'm still human. Mostly._ "Wow."

"It's pretty, isn't it? Like emeralds." The bodice caught the light.

A collective horrified thought entered the four women's minds. _Holy pine scented traffic lights, it's not only air freshener green, it's _shiny_. Maybe if I break my leg, I won't have to wear it._

"Yes. Very... green." Dawn nodded after a struggle.

"But it's still suitable, because it's an older style and the waistline is sort of 'young', which I think will make me look more like the radiant bastion of womanhood and you will look more like the 'maidens' in comparison."

"What's she a bastard of?" Buffy hissed. Tara elbowed her and shook her head.

"Traditionally, at least for most of my life, a bridesmaid actually had to be a maid- as in a virgin, not a housekeeper. I'm speaking of my human life, not my demon life, because to vengeance demons, virginity didn't matter, and dresses were made of blood larvae. So I'm saying bridesmaids were virginal, and these dresses will help you look the part, since none of you come by it naturally. I mean almost none. One out of four isn't too bad nowadays. Right, Dawn?" Anya's happy burbling came to a halt with an affectionate look at the fifteen year old.

"Yes. Right, Dawnie?" Willow suddenly got a panicked look on her face. _We didn't let her date, I know I didn't let her date, oh God what if she-_

"Don't look at me like that, guys!" Dawn winced. "There's no way I'm going anywhere near the opposite sex until I go off to college. Spike wants to 'meet' anyone I date, and therefore read my lips, 'Dawn dates no one'."

"I suddenly really like Spike." Buffy teased, and everyone laughed. Except Anya.

"Hm- erm." She cleared her throat. "Bride here. Eyes on me. And stop rolling them, I can see that!" She fluffed the sample dress lovingly. "I think all of you will look lovely. Young and lovely and emerald-y. And I will look like a sexy princess in my dress." With a beaming smile, she concluded, "Do you like it?"

The silence went on for just a split second too long, women warring with vanity, love, honesty, and the thought of arguing. Willow saved the day. She would, after all, do anything in the world for her best friends, find ways to rearrange the cosmos and defy the grave- or wear something butt ugly in front of an entire congregation full of wedding guests.

"We should celebrate! Yeah. We all need to go get ice cream. Now!" The redhead cried in a strained, almost squeaking voice, a smile plastered on her face that made her cheeks ache.

"Ice cream?" Anya asked in a confused voice.

Buffy stepped in. "It's -it's traditional! Yes, traditional to go eat ice cream after a long day of fun, girly bonding!"

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better!" Anya gushed, seized her wedding gown and the bridesmaids' monstrosity, and headed out to the front to make her down payment and discuss fittings.

"Does anyone else think those things look like Christmas decorations that got sewn together?" Dawn asked softly.

"Shhh. Yes." Tara giggled in her ear. "Good save with the ice cream, Babe."

"I need it. We all need it. It's multipurpose. Ice cream serves the tradition of girls' day out's ending with consuming fat and sugar, and it's also anesthetic for our eyeballs."

The laughter got louder.

"Is anyone else thinking of asking what the blood larvae looks like? Just so we can make an informed decision? I'm thinking it might be the lesser of two evils."

"You do look good in red, Sweetie."

Buffy's shoulders shook as she tried not to let the laughter get too boisterous._ I missed this. I would have missed _this_. I miss the laughing and the joking and Willow's quirky comments and Tara's giggle, and Dawn's whining goofiness. I would have missed watching my best friend get married. Missed this wedding. God, even though sometimes I look at them and I'm so mad I feel like I'm going to hit them or just boil over because it hurts so bad, that I hate what they did- I love them so much. _

_Even if I felt complete up there, wherever I was, I was wrong. My life wasn't really complete when I think about how many events I would never have seen. _

_ I wouldn't have known that, though. These are all things I wouldn't have cared about, because I wouldn't have known they existed. I was content, I was at peace. _

_ No one would ever call _this _peaceful. _Dawn had just laughed so hard she had to double up, taking out Willow in the process, making them laugh all the more. _But these moments are what makes your life full. _Spike's smile merged with the smiles of these others. _A short life, or a full one? _

Buffy bent to help her sister up, and let herself laugh again.

* * *

Anya, writing a check at the front desk, laughed as well.

"Your family seems very happy this afternoon." The clerk verified the signature and began making out the tag for the dress.

"Oh, they're not my..." Anya paused. "Yes. Well, they should be. I'm the first one to get married. We're celebrating me and love in general. With ice cream."

"How nice." The clerk handed Anya a receipt. "If you just give us a few minutes, we'll have someone over to verify the sizing of this manufacturer with your friend's sizes."

"We'll be waiting." Anya bit her lip as her perfect gown was lifted off the rack and taken away. "Bye, dress. I'll miss you!"

"Are we good to go?" Buffy bounded up beside the bride as she stood at the front desk.

Anya's response was to burst into tears.

"I guess not." Buffy looked horrified. "Guys!"

"What's wrong, Anya?" Dawn cried, arms instantly opening.

"Oh, Anya, we were only having a little fun, we love the dresses, we would wear anything in the world for you." Willow patted her back firmly.

"W-what happened, Honey?" Tara looked startled.

"I'm getting married." Anya sniffled. "And I'm so happy."

Silence. Then Buffy cautiously said, "That's good, right?"

"I think you might have read the one article too fast. You cry during the wedding _itself._ Strictly optional." Dawn calmed.

"You don't understand. I'm so happy to get married to Xander and I love him so much, but his family is so awful, and my family is dead and... oh." She stomped her foot and wiped at her eyes. "I'm glad you're our family and I love you guys. Now we do a group hug, right?" The sniffling slowed and the tears were blinked away.

"Right. That's right." Dawn, already hugging the bride with one arm gave a fierce glare at the others and they moved in instantly.

They formed a brief, squashy hug, moved and a little uncomfortable all at once.

Buffy found Dawn's eyes on hers as they shared the ungainly embrace. The sisters smiled._ She wouldn't have had any family either._ Buffy wormed her arm past Tara's back and locked her fingers around Dawn's wrist. Her sister's fingers managed to squeeze her arm back.

There's being happy, and there's feeling pain, confusion, an ache in your heart, a myriad of things that you would rather never feel. But when you feel them, you know you're alive.

Buffy gasped silently. For the first time since she'd been back, she had the feeling, not an entirely comfortable one, that she was glad to be alive.

* * *

"I am so glad to be home. I have to pee. I haven't laughed so hard, in ever." Dawn clutched her side.

"The way Anya drives isn't helping." Willow agreed.

"Hey!"

"You'd better hope there are working bathrooms." Buffy sighed. The happiness created by the great day of fun and free time, with no focus on her life's problems ebbed out of her as the house came into view. In that house was three grand worth of copper, all of it tallying up interest on Giles' MasterCard. _Most likely it's halfway installed, and there are sweaty guys from work all over the couch and wanting to be paid, and when I can't pay them, they'll glare at me all week at the site. Or almost none of it's installed and there's one very exhausted Xander, or one very passed out Xander or a very flooded basement or a-_

"Buffy? All of us are out of the car except you. Do you want to go get more ice cream?" Anya asked.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry." Buffy scrambled out of the door, a puddle of dread in her stomach turning rapidly into a full body tsunami.

"I'm sure Xander found some people to help and I told him to make sure the plumbing was in working order by tonight." Willow fished her keys out of her purse. "He must have gotten at least one person to help. I don't recognize that little red car."

Dawn opened the front door, already unlocked and raced upstairs.

"Xander? Xander?" Buffy shouted.

"Groom-to-be? Where are you?" Anya caroled, trotting ahead.

Buffy's eyes scanned the room. No couch-people. No obvious signs of flooding.

"We're done. Come on down!" Xander's voice shouted up from the basement.

"Remember, be nice." Tara hissed in Buffy's ear as they made their way down. "Whatever they got done, we appreciate it."

"I know, I do." Buffy smiled and patted Tara's hand. "Hey, Xan, who's 'we'?"

"The 'we' in question are four of the very best plumbers in the- ooof!" Xander was knocked from the base of the stairs by his beaming future wife. "Hi, Ahn!"

"I found the most beautiful dress ever!" Anya was off and running, talking a mile a minute as she wrapped herself around him, and Xander's explanation was cut short.

Giles took over. "Xander was trying to tell you that between him and I, and Spike and his friend Clem-" He paused to let Clem emerge from the shadows, wave, and allowed for gasping, "managed to finish the job in only-" he consulted his watch, "eight hours, I suppose."

"Hi Slayer. Red. Ladies." Spike grinned up at them. "No leaks. We tested every bloody inch and we're sound as a pound."

"You- the whole- really?" Buffy blinked, the ball of unease inside her shrinking.

"And it works?" Willow tagged on.

"Sure does. Clem is a- Clem?"

"I'm gonna go. Nice to meet you all. I had a great time." The demon had skirted his way silently behind them and spoke rapidly when their attention was directed to him. "Bye Xander! Giles, Spike. Oh, Xander, bowling on Thursday night." Clem began nervously making his way up the stairs.

"Lane eight, see you there!" Xander called in a smothered voice from under Anya's fevered, joyous kisses. Clem nodded, giving a thumbs up, and when he got to the top, he bolted.

"Was that a demon? That was a demon!" Tara approached Giles worriedly.

"But a very nice one." Giles grinned and slurred a tiny bit.

"Are you drunk?"

"I am mildly playful. Manual labor brings out the boy in me." He twinkled at them.

"Yeah, that an' half of a flask." Spike chuckled. Giles chuckled back as he nodded.

"That'd be your cue to go home then and get to bed. The store opens at eight tomorrow!" Anya managed to pry herself away from pre-connubial bliss to think about money matters.

"It doesn't. Tomorrow's Sunday!"

"Tomorrow is Halloween. Mega Bone-anza at the store, remember? Everyone is helping, so we all need to rest up."

"Wait!" Buffy held up her hands. "Are you saying all the plumbing is done? For good? And it works?"

"Yes." Spike, Xander, and Giles chorused. "Also, we did it for free." Xander winked.

Buffy's squeal was deafening. She ran, hurled herself first at Giles, then Xander, even Spike. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou soooo much!" She cried. "I can't believe it! That's a huge savings and it helps so much I can't believe you, all of you, and Mr. Wrinkly Guy who left, you're all the best and you have no idea..."

The torrent of relief induced gratitude spiraled on for several minutes. It was the hyper, excited voice her friend's thought they'd never hear again. They smiled, and let her speak.

* * *

"Stop smiling at me." Buffy smiled herself, and hung her head to escape his gaze.

"No." Spike said simply. "Can't help myself."

"Could you at least try? You make me feel like a dork."

"How's this?" Spike rearranged his features in a scowl.

Buffy sighed. "Better. More familiar. Although, the smile was nice, too."

"So is yours, Luv." The two of them sat on the back stoop, knee to knee, looking up at the moon. "Now that we've escaped the madhouse, an' I can hear myself think, did you have a good day?" He asked cautiously.

Buffy nodded. "Awesome except for the bridesmaid dresses. No awesomeness there." They laughed together, maybe the hundredth time both of them had laughed that day. With a stretch, she leaned over on the cool, pale form beside her. "The best part was coming home, and finding that huge nagging worry done with. Well, all except for how to pay Giles back."

"Ah. That bit." Spike nervously looked back towards the house. The wicca set were out picking up something at the campus library before it closed, Dawn going with them to oversee the buying of candy for trick or treaters afterwards. Xander and Anya had left, Giles had gone with them, so it was just the two of them. Alone. Which was good on one hand. On the other hand, it might've been good to have Bit around, to run interference, or Anya to talk number sense at her if Buffy objected.

"Yeah. That _huge_ bit. You know, the problem with debt is that it doesn't just sit there. It parties. It has all its little ten percent friends over or their twenty dollar late fee buddies. Not only that, but the other bills, the regular stuff you need to do to stay alive? It can't take the hint and leave town while debt is partying. Nope, it just wanders on in and demands attention too. God, Spike, I'm cracking up. I mean, today I'm finally feeling like I want to be here, happy to be alive again, with people I love and see their lives changing- and now I'm back to sitting on the steps, hating the mess I'm in and feeling like I can't handle it."

Spike licked his lips twice, stalling, thinking. "You're happy to be alive?" He murmured quietly.

"Yeah. I was. I mean, I _am_, but it's not a permanent feeling yet, okay?"

"No worries. No pressure. Not from me." He let out a deep breath of borrowed air, still holding faint wisps of smoke. "If the mess could just get cleared away, and you could start fresh... would that be better, d'you think?"

"It has to be. It would be one less icky thought, one less reminder my friends took me out of heaven and dropped me in crap-land. The fewer thoughts about that, the better."

"It takes time to let all that go, I know."

"It's not even that I'm letting it go or not. I can, I will. I'll tell them someday, too, when I can say it without crying or punching them." Buffy sighed in frustration as she ran her hands through her long blonde locks. She looked over at her friend, her currently most trusted friend. "Sometimes I just want to clear my mind, and when I refocus it, I don't want anything to drag me down. I can live here, I can be alive. But if I'm getting resurrected, I want the whole deal. Fresh start."

"I wish I could give you that, Luv, but without cutting all the old ties, well..." _I would give you that. Say the word and I'll take you clear across the world and we'll start fresh as nightfall. But you don't want that, so we sit. And we muddle, trying to make these masses of dead clay into something beautiful, worthy of a guest from heaven._

She was quick to state what he knew. "I don't want that. I'm sorry. I'm not making sense. I _am_ happy. I'm okay. I'm just... tired of thinking about icky stuff on a good day, but it won't leave me alone."

"Then maybe I just haven't made the day good enough." Spike reached inside his coat, gratified to find her hand preventing him from grasping the papers, because her fingers were tight on his sleeve.

"You have made every day I've been back better. I can't lie and say good. But better. Sometimes, yes, good."

"Thanks, Slayer." Spike smiled a lopsided, soft grin, and slowly drew out the envelope. "Then let me make it better."

Buffy took the thick envelop from his hand. "What's this?"

"Legit. I swear."

"Oh, and that always goes so well when you-" Buffy blinked in the moonlight and the light of a single bulb on the porch. "Spike, these are from the bank."

"Uh-huh. _Your_ bank. Your bank's loan officer. Well, the junior one, not the pompous twit you spoke to."

Buffy rifled through the papers, flipping page after page back, eyes widening, jaw slowly opening.

"What is this?"

"It's a refinancing. Your mortgage. I was going for a loan, but turned out this was better, see?" His fumbling hands moved under hers and turned back to the front document. "They lowered your interest rate, saves you a few quid a month. An' now you don't have anything to pay off, exactly, nothing new anyway, because they just took the equity from the refinancing and converted it into a few grand and put it in your account. Technically it's still a loan, but it's just sort of like a few deferred mortgage payments, I think." He didn't breathe after he finished. He didn't breathe anyway, but now he felt his dead lungs actually constricting. "Well?"

Buffy's mind refused to comprehend fully. "The guy at the bank wouldn't give us a loan. We tried the home equity route."

"I know. This is a different guy. He owed a friend of a friend a favor and I- asked him to do the favor for you instead. Alright?" He instinctively tensed for a jab or a scream. He received neither. "Buffy, Luv, listen to me. No one got hurt. I got the loan officer's debt cancelled with a demon if he'd help you. An' in return all I did was off this evil, twitchy little git of a demon, a H'thra, about this big, and they're damn slimy, sneaky little things, and not nice, and-"

"Shut up!" Buffy snapped, shaking her head. "I don't- I don't understand."

"Well... I just thought this way you could get the loan. You had the equity, you just had a pissant loan officer the first round. An' if you still need a loan, instead of the refinancing and the number juggling they did- hell, Buffy, I don't know how to reverse it! I've never tried to do anything with high finances. Look, look, the guy_ also_ put a loan application in, for three thousand, the number you wanted originally, it's already approved, you just sign. In case you don't want to do the other bit, you just want a straight up loan, he'll give it to you." He tore the papers out of her hands and flipped both documents to the signature pages. "Here. Sign one. Sign both. I don't care. Sod it!"

"Spike, Spike calm down!" Buffy put her hands on his arms and looked in awe at his face, so sweetly confused and frustrated, then down to the papers he offered her. "This is too much. This is _too much_."

"I know! I know, but sometimes people need 'too much'. Sometimes people_ are _'too much'. We're not like the rest of the world, maybe we have bigger problems to fix." He put the papers down on the step at their feet and clutched her hands. "Please don't ask me to get 'em to undo it, I don't know how. Except I guess without your signature they're worthless so... whatever. I'd find another way, anyway, 'cause I'm gonna win, I'm gonna save you, a little bit at a time, every night, jus' like I promised, Buffy. Starting with whatever makes you unhappy, and that means this money hangin' over your head. If I have to play poker to get the cash, I will, but that means I'd need a huge amount of purebred cats on short notice for the ante -"

"Are you out of your mind?" Buffy stared. "Please don't be crazy. I- I need you. The rest of this place makes me crazy, but you don't. What do you mean 'cats'?"

"Don't ask, Slayer. Just tell me you'll accept help. This time at least. Ah ah." He preemptively shushed her. "It's my turn, and this is my play, my move. All I want is for you to feel better, an' if this does it, I-"

It was Buffy's turn to shush him, a shake of her head, a hand to his lips. "Thank you. Thank you, you don't even understand how-" She rubbed her head. "You don't understand."

His frantic, insistent tone faded to a quiet, steady one. "Maybe not entirely, but enough. It's simple, you don't need the worry. This helps take it away."

"It does." Buffy closed her eyes. "That's enough to pay down most of the debt, and pay Giles back."

"Yeah, it's a- it's a start."

_Or an end. To the gnawing worry I'm going to lose our house and lose my sister... But this, this great day, this great surprise- on top of another great surprise... _The badness was falling away._ Falling, falling, falling. _With her eyes closed, she fell forward, coming out of blackness, oddly enough finding her light by landing in something seemingly dark.

Spike caught her lips on his own, bringing his hand slowly up to tangle in her hair, those often dreamed of golden waves. _Only she's lost so much brightness. Funny it's what I do, skulking about in the dark, that makes her shine again._

"Mmm, Spike." She whispered, moving closer, tongue moving in as well.

He was in heaven. Strange, new sort of bliss that just- He frowned suddenly. "Damn." He ended their interaction abruptly.

Buffy drew herself up in surprise. " What?"

He was irate, but too bloody happy at the same time to showcase it properly. He leaned forward and peered into her eyes. "I feel like you're winnin' every single round! You said you were no good at this, this was gonna be my easy win." His frown petered out and he chuckled. "Not that I'm complaining."

The funny thing was- yet another funny thing, and not in the "ha ha" way but in the "isn't it ironic" way, was that she wanted him to win. She actually thought, no matter what he said about her making him happy, he was winning hands down. _Oh God. Hands. Down._ Her body ached suddenly, the iciness of this world was colder than his skin, and the kind of safety he gave her, this former enemy, was more security than any of her friends right now.

She licked her lips, tasting him, and giving herself enough moisture to actually move her suddenly freezing mouth. "M-maybe we'd better play another way? The old way?"

Spike dark brows arched and he looked almost hurt. "What, with sadnesses?" He exclaimed.

"No, with happinesses." She looked at their joined hands, resting on their knees now, "I meant we could do that game, though. With the shot glass? And -the alcohol?"

The vampire cocked his head slowly, studying her. "Okay."

His quizzical gaze made her blush. _What am I talking about, what am I saying? I just want to have a night and we can... play the game. The alcohol is yuck, but for real, he'll see he's the winner because he's going to be the one doing all the drinking._

_ If we could have a night like that first night we played... I want that, those things we did. Talk. Nothing you can't say, nothing you can't feel, nothing you have to hide. Make each other happy. Maybe a new kind of happy. _

"Okay. On Halloween? I mean, tomorrow, wow, that's tomorrow." She shook her head at her jumbled suggestion. "Your place, after patrol?"

He couldn't think straight, couldn't believe she might be suggesting..._ Oh don't think too hard, mate._ "Right. Tomorrow night. Although- no patrol. Maybe we could-" he paused, then dove, "go someplace else. If you want?"

The flash of panic and self-doubt in her eyes tipped him off before she could even squeak out, "Like a da-"

"No! Just someplace that you could relax. Might be a laugh, the two of us gettin' to do somethin' 'fun'." His eyes shifted to the side, taking in her reaction from the corner of his eye. She no longer looked scared shitless. "Nothing too loud or too bright." He reassured.

Buffy nodded slowly. "What'd you have in mind?"

_Dammit._ Had he thought that far? Yes, but it was a long time ago, when he'd let himself have happy dreams, more selfish ones. "You used to love the Bronze."

"I don't want to go to the Bronze." She said so hastily it might have been rude. It _was _rude, but she knew Spike wouldn't be judging her outbursts.

He improvised. "I figured maybe we'd go- out of town? Not far, just the next town over, a night off the Hellmouth if you-"

"I love that idea!" She clutched his arm eagerly. _Anywhere not on the Hellmouth is my kind of place!_ "Let's go. Take me."

_Take me? _Spike's mouth dried out and his loins woke. _Take her._ Oh yes, he loved that idea. Or he used to. He'd dreamt of it. Hard, fast, ripping, pounding, two bodies together, two supernatural beings trying to knock the other down. He didn't want it anymore. _No. Give yourself to me_. That's what he wanted now.

"We could find a club. Have a drink, have a dance?"

"I'll see if Dawn minds, and if Tara and Willow will be okay if I'm- late. I still should help at the store during the day, since I have off and they're planning to be so busy."

"Of course. I'll help, too."

"You will?"

"What else am I gonna do? It's my day off too." He winked. "Besides, love watchin' Demon Gal in action, an' I'll be near my favorite people." He grinned at her.

"Great."

"Great."

"Thank you. For the basement. The loan, or the refinancing..." Buffy shook her head, overwhelmed. "Wow. You're quite the champ." She ran her fingers lightly over his lapels.

"You're worth championing." He found his usual suavity stumbling under her touch. "And you keep passin' your turns and then sneakin' 'em anyway." He reminded her warningly.

"Well, you win for like- a whole handful of rounds for all this." Buffy gestured vaguely behind them at the house.

"Yeah, but all you have to do is kiss me an' we're tied up again." He groused sarcastically.

"So... I shouldn't kiss you anymore tonight?" She rose, backing away playfully. _Come get me. Catch me. Touch me. Save me._

"Oh no. No, no, it just means I have to be a little more crafty." He rose and stepped, swayed with her, letting his hands lay lightly on her hips.

She moved herself hesitantly closer, even though the distance was less than a foot. Step, shift, step- touching. Pelvis to hips, a few inches away from being perfectly even. She swallowed. Memories of unwanted dreams teased her. Hands, bodies, hardness, softness... Her face flooded with hot blood.

Spike's nostrils flared briefly. He could hear the tidal wave of blood, heading to her cheeks, and down south. He could smell something faint, unfamiliar, but known. _Oh Christ, she can't be. Not for me. That's too much to hope for. _

_So why does she tremble when I press my hands in a bit?_ "You hurt, Slayer?" He looked in her eyes, and steadied her waist.

"No. Just ache..." She hadn't meant to admit that. But that was Spike for you. The sneaky vampire confessor, making you blurt out your innermost secrets and things you'd never say if they weren't said to him.

He refused to groan out loud. He could tell her that he knew a hundred ways to relieve the ache, ways just for her, ways that were nice and soft and he'd never ask for anything back.

_But that's too much to offer. At least tonight. You make her think too hard, you'll put the weight of the world right back on her shoulders. _"Well then. Let me give you a kiss an' make it better?"

Buffy had waited the second between her confession and his words with a confused buzz in her stomach. Did she want him to ease that ache? Did she want to clarify it, ask for something more, run away and let it die out on its own? As it was, his simplistic words made her grin playfully. "That sounds good to me."

His head bent, hers tilted up, and they embraced, standing out, under the oak on the edge of the backyard.

Kiss turned into kisses plural, several, long, each one deeper, more prolonged. "I wish I could take all the pain away for you." Spike whispered, drawing back, letting her breathe.

Words churned and spun inside her, and then fell out. "You take away so much. You know- I- wow. This is going to sound weird, but you know what helps? I don't have to do anything but _be _here to make you happy. I don't have to lie, I don't have to pretend, I don't even have to cope, do anything special in front of you... and you still say I win. Weird. The first thing I ever won in this town without fighting for it."

"You don't see how hard you're fighting, Slayer. That's part of what makes you the good guy, miraculous, unbeatable. You just remember that."

"Then keep reminding me?" She asked in a small voice.

"As long as you'll let me. An' probably after you want me to stop." He teased, running his thumb under her upturned chin.

"I don't think I'll ever want that." She smiled faintly.

"Then I'll keep doin' it, an' make more memories with you, like we said last night." Spike nuzzled his forehead to hers. "Alright?"

"I love it."

Both parties flinched, the three words said so perilously, wonderfully close to three other words, in one case studiously avoided, in one case rabidly pursued.

Buffy's heart felt like it was pounding in her ears. _Don't say things like that. Not until you mean it for sure. Never hurt someone, never hurt yourself, with those words. At least until you're sure. _

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, at the shop." Spike tried to give her breathing room, painful as it was, as exultant as he was in his head.

"Right. Um." She didn't let him pull away completely. "Um. Walk you home?" _Oh dear God. Am I really that ditzy? Yeah. Maybe._

"No... 'cause I'll insist on walking you back. Then-"

"Right, back and forth, all night." They shared a strained giggle.

"But I don't have to leave right away."

"Good. I don't want you to." _Should I add something? Yet? Right now? Hm. Nope._

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Hey. No fair musclin' in on my turn, Slayer."

"I'm not!"

"You are. _Again_. Puffin' me up with all those sweet words an' big smiles. Now stop it."

"How am I supposed to stop it when you made me all happy, huh?" She poked him in the ribs.

"Good point." He muttered thoughtfully.

"You're weird." She rolled her eyes.

He tucked her hand in his and began to stroll them around the back of the tree. "You can't really talk about that, Luv."

"Hey!"

"Right, sorry. Don't want to incur your wrath, break my streak here." He pushed her gently against the bark of the tall tree and leaned against her, eyes closing, lips lowering. "Let me see if I can strengthen my lead a little..."

She smiled into the kiss, smiled until something in his mouth and hands seemed to remove all the stress and tension right out of her, leaving one big mass of clingy, want-y feelings, and a feel good sigh that seemed to go straight down to her toes.

_Mmmm. Oh God... give him the trophy now._

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: In this chapter some lyrics from "Little Red Riding Hood" originally produced the Sam the Sham, are used. However, I heard this song performed by a gorgeous jazz vocalist who slowed it down and made it more sweet and seductive, so that's the tone I'd like to set here._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, cavementftw, rororogers, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, NausicA, Mike13z50,Teddybear-514, Touch The Dark, Lyzzybelle, Rosalea12, _

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part XI**

"Happy Halloween. Look, your English muffin has little candy corn fangs." Tara set down a plate in front of Buffy. "And a little bit of strawberry jam for blood on his chin. I-is that cute? I thought it would be cute. A vamp-muffin." The resident chef put down two more plates in front of Dawn and Willow.

"It's adorable, Sweetie." Willow beamed up at her curvaceous lover and Dawn tore into her breakfast ravenously. Buffy just picked off the candy and nibbled the two sugary triangles at first.

"Do we have peanut butter?" The slayer said abruptly and headed to the kitchen.

Tara followed after her, hastily apologizing, "I shouldn't have used vampires. I would have done witches, but-"

"Stereotypes." Willow muttered.

"Round! It's round, pumpkins are round, I should have made it a Jack-o-Lantern." Tara berated herself. "With candy corns for the smile and the eyes and the nose. Oh that would have been way cuter!"

"Tara, it's fine!" Buffy smiled and shook her head. "C'mon, I'm just not- hungry all the time."

"Are you tired?" Dawn asked with her mouth full. "Do you want to rest today?"

"There will be plenty of help at the store, Buffy." Willow backed Dawn up.

"No. I _do_ want to be there, Anya's gonna be- well, I want to be there for Giles." Everyone giggled. "Sorry, Tara, breakfast looks great." Buffy slathered the now bare-except for a smidge of strawberry at the bottom- muffin. "So. Halloween tonight. Big treat."

"We have five bags of fun size candy on standby. But no peanut butter cups because we all know they wouldn't make it until dark." Dawn glared teasingly at her sister, who stuck out her tongue.

"I hope the demons play nice." Willow shivered, thinking about Halloweens of previous years.

"I think they will." Buffy smiled quietly. "I was talking to Spike, and all the things he's been doing lately, th-that _all _of us have been doing lately, have really weeded out the bad guys, and there are no 'big bads' in sight. Knock on wood." Buffy hurriedly thumped the table. Willow tossed salt over her shoulder for good measure, then shrugged guiltily for her own supersition. "We were talking last night, after you guys went on the candy run-"

Dawn swallowed a big smile behind a mouthful of orange juice.

"-and he was saying there's some card shark in town who's holding a big poker party tonight, since all the local hell spawn will be free to chill out and celebrate. Kind of like when the town throws the tree lighting at Christmas, I guess. Oh yeah, and he's having a cat show or something."

"A card shark?" Dawn squinted her eyes.

"Someone who's a professional gambler." Tara explained. "I'm no good at cards, but a cat show? That might be fun." She turned to Willow.

"Uh- the card shark _is_ a demon. So it's a demon cat show." Buffy explained.

"Demon cats?" Willow looked intrigued.

"No, demons_ with _cats. I think. Actually, I'm not sure." Buffy tried not to blush in front of her friends. She wasn't sure because every other sentence she and Spike exchanged was between deep kisses, and mainly exchanged to keep them from sinking down on the ground and getting "carried away". "Hm. I- I'm not sure what he was saying. I'll ask him at the store." Buffy sighed and stuffed her mouth. _All I wanted to say was "I think I'm in the clear to go have a date." No! Not a date, an- an evening out? That's still a date. It's _Spike_. It's not a date, because dates can get you hurt, they start on these paths to emotional ickiness, but we already had the emotional ickiness and then- I died. So we start over and this time there's only been good emotional stuff. Okay, _my _stuff was emotional _crap,_ but between him and I... he makes me happy. _

"Buffy? Buffy! Did you say Spike is going to be at the store?" Tara asked, trying to get Buffy's wandering mind to rejoin the conversation.

"Yeah, everyone is pitching in."

"Well, where else would he be? We're his friends, he always tries to help us." Dawn reminded them staunchly.

"I need to bake him some cookies." Willow nodded absently. "For the plumbing."

"For lots of things." Buffy thought of the papers she had tucked safely upstairs in her dressing table, signed and ready to hand in to the bank on Monday. She wasn't ready to explain all that Spike had done, but didn't mind thinking about it. "Oh, yeah. So, I was saying, Spike and I think everything is pretty cool tonight, in terms of baddies. Would you guys be okay handling the trick or treaters by yourselves? Without me?"_ I shouldn't even have to ask. I shouldn't even be _here_ to ask anyone anything. But then- well I'd miss moments like yesterday, and maybe moments like tonight._

"Totally. But if it's quiet, why will you be patrolling?" Willow pouted. "Xander and Anya were going to come over. We were going to watch the Great Pumpkin at eight thirty, and have a 'Snoopy dance' dance contest. Xander's going to win, but you never know, this might be my year!" The redhead stuck out her determined chin and smiled mischievously.

"Oooh." Buffy bit her lip. Tough choices. Spike wouldn't mind if she stayed for that, and it did sound fun. Upbeat, silly, Scooby fun.

Then there was Spike 'fun'. Quieter, more aware of what she needed, no requirement to be 'on', no requirement to pretend everything was happy and perfect all the time. "That sounds like a hoot and a half, Will." Buffy twisted her hands, trying to quell the rebellious flash of anger she felt, anger that she should feel guilt about not choosing them, anger that she had to make excuses or make hard choices, feel selfish when technically she should feel _nothing_. Nothing _here_, anyway. "But-" she swallowed, "Spike suggested I take a night off the Hellmouth."

"So we'll watch the movie at Giles' and help him sugar up the neighborhood." Willow shrugged. "You rest."

"I mean, _leave _the Hellmouth. Leave _town_. For the night."

Silence. Confused stares. "What?" Dawn asked.

"I want to leave Sunnydale for a few hours, and go to a town where I can have dinner at a restaurant where I don't check the waiters for pulses! A place where I can walk down the street and I don't have to listen for screams in the alleys." Buffy burst out. Confused stares turned to shocked ones. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"N-no. You should tell us what you need. You're right. All of us need to get out of t-town sometimes." Tara struggled to say, head bobbing forcefully with the effort of speaking when emotional. "You never leave, none of us d-do, because we can't go far, we're afraid of wh-what will happen over night."

"And I'm not even going over night, I promise. Just for a few hours. With Spike. I'll be safe, and I think all of you will be safe too."

"You couldn't pick a safer night to go. Or a safer person to go with." Dawn backed her sister up with an eager little smile at Willow, pleading in her eyes. "Right, guys?"

Willow alone had been quiet. "You and Spike want to go out to dinner?" She finally asked in an incredulous voice.

_Wow, that sounds weird_. But Buffy tossed her hair nonchalantly and straightened her shirt as she replied, "Yeah. Or maybe just walk around a different set of streets at night without our usual fascination with graveyards and sewers." Buffy crossed her arms and nodded once, firmly.

"With Spike?" Willow repeated.

"He's our friend! You want to bake him cookies, I want to eat dinner with him."

"We ate dinner together almost every night all summer." Dawn tacked on, then darted a fearful glance at her sister. So often in the past, her attempts at help had been met with harsh looks. _But I've learned a lot. I'm not the same little kid. I'm a - a small adult. Okay a small adult with flamingo legs, but whatever._ Her eyes met Buffy's and Buffy smiled briefly but sincerely.

"I didn't say no! Or- anything bad. I just wanted to make sure I heard right." Willow concluded lamely.

Buffy bridled slightly. _I wasn't asking permission. No, I was. Sort of. I always want permission, or approval or something. Maybe because bad things keep happening and people keep leaving, and they're all I have left. _She thought of the man she'd prefer to spend the evening with and amended her thoughts. _Almost all I have left. But it doesn't matter. Did anyone get my approval or permission before making me a slayer? Making me _die_? Making me come back when I'm _finally_ at peace? They owe me. _

"I wanted to make sure it was okay with you." Buffy admitted. "But if it's not a good night, I'll find another night." _But it will happen._

"Of course it's okay! I was just surprised. Spike can be-" Willow searched for an appropriate description.

"Obnoxious and jerky?" Dawn supplied.

"Thanks." Willow replied automatically. "I know he's not always like that."

"No. He isn't." Buffy bit down on her muffin and sat back in her chair. Everyone else rapidly followed suit to cover the questions left unspoken.

Except one person. "Is this a date?" Dawn broke the uncomfortable silence.

Buffy, Tara, and Willow all choked.

"No!" Buffy shook her head.

"Do you like him?" Dawn asked before she could help herself.

"Dawnie!" Tara hushed.

"Of course I do!" Buffy proclaimed.

"No, I mean-"

"Oh boy, look at the time, Anya's waiting. Go! Chew, swallow, dishes in the sink! Now." Willow drained her coffee.

"But-" Dawn looked up, injured.

"_Now_!" Willow grabbed the teen by the elbow and passed her along to Tara, who hauled her up the stairs.

"Thanks." Buffy murmured, rising, not looking at her friend.

"You got it." Willow took the plates into the kitchen. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?" Buffy paused on the threshold of the dining room, shoulders instantly sagging. _No more demands. No more questions. _

"I missed you. I'm glad you're- that you're home in time for the holidays." Willow murmured in a suddenly thick voice.

_Home. I'm home. Heaven was better, was more beautiful. But it wasn't home._ "Me too, Wills."

* * *

"Willow Rosenberg." Anya's voice hissed sharply. The blushing bride of yesterday at turned into the high powered business woman- in roller skates, short shorts and a striped crop top. "Stop lecturing the customers! You are here to sell stuff and smile."

"She had on a fake wart! Did you see that? Stereotyping!"

"Yes! Good! Stereotyping is good today, because millions of idiots who think this holiday is all about magic and scary potion ingredients, crystals, and candles, and _everything else we sell_, are going to march in here with their wallets open and give me enough money to pay for a honeymoon in Jamaica. Oh, and don't forget, your girlfriend is on commission!" Anya hissed, and then shoved Willow away fiercely. "Now smile and hand out candy- but only if they buy something!"

* * *

"Why do people only buy things that are in the basement?" Buffy, designated runner up and down the stairs, huffed as she hurried down in search of crystallized spider legs and snake sheddings.

"I dunno why, but I have to say, glad they did. Happy Hallows' Eve, Slayer." Spike stepped out of the shadows in the basement.

"Spike!"

"Came in through the tunnels, avoiding the sun." Spike smiled, anticipating her question. "I'll come up soon as the picture windows won't fry me."

"Oh... it's okay." Buffy's heart quickened. "There seems to be lots of work down here. Um. Want to help me find crystallized spider legs?"

"Sure thing." Spike came over and stood beside her, peering at the shelves. "Everything goin' alright?" He looked at the ceiling. "Am I the only one who hears that skiddin' sound up there?"

Buffy groaned. "Roller skates. Part of a Charlie's Angel outfit. It's part of the 'cheery, money-spending atmosphere'."

"Demon gal?" Spike laughed.

"Who else? Giles is a wizard with a big pointy hat, Xander's a pirate, and Tara's a fortune teller. Anya looks like a roller derby rockette, but she thinks she's Farrah somebody or other with hair right out of the seventies. Don't ask."

"Good plan. And look who you're talkin' to about hair from the seventies." He chuckled, and made her laugh as well.

"I think it grows on you." Buffy found her hand leaving the shelves and reaching for the bleached blonde strands.

"Mm, things you learn to like, Goldilocks." Spike brushed her hair back as well, letting the silky texture play over his fingers.

"Hey! People are backing up at the counter! I need those snake sheddings!" Anya's loud, strident tone managed to ring even down in the basement.

Spike and Buffy pulled apart hastily, and Spike's hand came to rest on a shelf. "Lucky me. Here you are, spider legs, crystallized." He found the jar right at his fingertips.

"Oh gughh." Buffy took the jar with a wrinkled nose and disgusted expression. "I'm going to be so glad when this day is done." She held the glass bottle far away from her as she could and continued to look for the snake skins.

"Yeah, uh," Spike ran his hand shyly over the back of his neck, "speaking of that. Are we still on? For tonight?"

"All set." Buffy found the second item and quickly tucked it under her arm. "I'll be right back down. I'll let them know you're here so we can put someone else to work. Why should I be the only one to suffer down in this pit?" She giggled.

"I don't mind. Put me to work. I slept all day, I'm ready to go all night." Spike smirked.

_Oh sod..._

_ Oh man... _

Buffy cleared her throat. "Good." She said in a pinched voice and dashed away.

Spike watched her go, idly pulling jars forward on the shelves. That wasn't strictly true, what he'd said about sleeping all day. He'd slept a good part of it. He'd spent the dark hours between leaving her and until the sun chased him inside looking for the right sort of place to go tonight and doing a little recon regarding Halloween on the Hellmouth. Now he had a place to go and a good feeling about going and leaving Bit and the rest behind, felt they'd be safe. He had always planned to take Slayer out to the Bronze or some other club, back when he first suggested the opposite of the "drown your sorrows" game. He knew she liked to dance, that she never got an evening off, that she ought to have a chance to go with the intention of enjoying herself, not looking for turned teenagers and frat boys.

_She liked the peanut butter cups. That was a little thing. Hope she likes this night out too. Not exactly earth shattering or metaphysical but-_

"Mungwort and runic coins that were special ordered." Buffy was back, charging down the stairs. "Where's the special order shelf? _Is_ there a special order shelf?"

"How often are you running up and down?" Spike asked, startled.

"A lot, but believe me, I don't mind the running part, it's the not finding things part I dislike. But I dislike it less than watching Willow turn purple from not screaming about the true nature of witchcraft and Anya doing her 'dance of capitalist superiority' when she thinks no customers can see her. Spike, what do runic coins look like? Big old gold coins or something?"

Spike grinned to himself. What a difference from the last time they'd met at this place. The girl who could barely speak from the pain and grief choking her. She wasn't "back to her old self", but she had a lot of her old ways coming back. That was good. He would always love her, but it was great to see some of the things he'd fallen in love with hitting the surface again. "Runic coins are small and stony, not big an' shiny."

"We need more aconite!" Dawn appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey Spike."

"Hi Niblet."

"Would you have Anya make a list of stuff we're about to run out of instead of sending me down here for two things at a time four dozen times?" Buffy groused, but with no true grumpiness behind the words.

"I'll ask Tara. Anya won't take her hands off the register long enough to write." Dawn laughed and disappeared.

"Here they are. Runic coins for Mr. Pendergast." Spike found the bag still in a shipping box."

"And I have the other smelly, scary things." Buffy held out her arms. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here." Spike chuckled and watched her run.

That was how they spent the next several hours, although Spike emerged from the basement after four, when he was sure no stray rays would hit him through the store's large display windows. They were the designated runners and fetchers and lifters of heavy objects. No one had time to talk in the haze of rampant salesmanship, but close to eight, things began to wind down.

"I'll do a quick sweep round if you want to pop home and change." Spike and Buffy trekked down to the basement one last time, carrying boxes of empty bottles and jars that had been cleaned out.

"Are you sure no one is planning anything major tonight? Anyone bad, I mean." Buffy had to ask.

"Well, yeah, all of us are planning _somethin_'. Most demons are headin' home to Halloween dinner with their families. Clem and his brothers are descendin' on Alta Vista for roast Himalayan and apple pie."

Buffy almost dropped her box. "Roast Himalayan- as in the fluffy cat?"

"Don't judge. They don't eat humans." Spike reminded her. "Cats are very popular with lots of demons and-" Buffy cut him off, frantically waving, biting her lip. "What? What is it?"

"Purebred cats! You said that card shark was having a purebred cat rally tonight and you meant-"

"Betting stakes. Kitten poker. Why, what'd you think I meant?"

"A cat show. I told Willow, Tara, and Dawn there was a big cat show tonight." Buffy looked ill.

Spike tried not to laugh. Too hard. He failed. "I'm sorry, Luv, I can just imagine them wanting to sneak in and see all the demons with their pretty little -" Hie laughter died abruptly. "Don't let 'em do that. Some demons prey on livestock because catching humans is risky, but if humans wander into their party, well..." He shook his head. "They won't do that, right?"

"No, everyone, except Giles, who says he's going to go home, turn off the porch light, turn on PBS, and eat all his Halloween candy himself, is going to be at my house."

"Niblet hardly needs four sitters, Pet." Spike laughed. "Although..."

"No!" Buffy elbowed him playfully as they set down their boxes. "Everyone's going to watch Charlie Brown and feed the trick or treaters. Also, there's a 'Snoopy dance' contest, but Xander's going to win. He always wins."

Selfishness fought with his goal. His _noble_ goal, because he admitted spending time alone with her was high on his wish list. But her happiness and her healing was above that. "Sounds like a good time."

"It's good enough. It's semi-traditional." Buffy shrugged and began sorting out the bottles, labels facing front so they could be refilled easily.

"We can do dinner another time." Spike offered. "I'm a big fan of the _Great Pumpkin_ myself." He winked.

"But I want _new_ memories. With you." Buffy turned to face him.

"I could be there." He stepped closer.

"I know. But I'd rather be someplace- alone. With you."

His borrowed blood seemed to race inside him. She was hypnotizing him with those eyes, and he was doing his best to turn up the wattage on his, snare her right back. "Then I'll pick you up after I do a sweep. I shouldn't be long. Willy's havin' a Halloween party himself, tryin' to compete with the new show off in town. Everyone else is probably layin' low, snug in nests or slime pits, or wherever Shark Boy is holdin' his 'cat show'. Tonight is ours."

"Good. I haven't had a night off in-" Buffy smiled tiredly, the glow in her eyes suddenly gone. "I've had plenty of nights off. Part of forever off." Heaven had no time. She had only been gone for a few months. Why did it feel like hundreds of years?

"Stop that." His voice was commanding but quiet. "What you had lately doesn't make up for the fact that you deserve to take breaks, like everyone else in the world, an' you can't get those breaks that often. Tonight you get out of town, get out _on_ the town, and that's all there is to it. Alright, Slayer?"

"Alright." Buffy smiled.

* * *

"All done! That was the last customer, lock the door, shutter the windows, and balance the till." Giles called loudly, ripping off his wizard costume to reveal jeans and a clinging tee shirt. "Bloody hot under that blasted thing."

"We're going to the Caribbean!" Anya grabbed her sweating partner and hugged him, fanning him with a handful of cash. "Xander! Xander, come hug me! Come dance with me on my roller skates!"

"I can't move, Honey. But once I can- I'll be over." Xander groaned from where he was collapsed against a half empty book shelf.

"That was the most incredible experience I've ever had!" Anya crowed, releasing Giles. Xander managed to roll his head to look at her pointedly. "Other than _that_."

"Store go boom." Willow eased off her shoes. "Ow. Fashionable boots for the working woman indeed. False advertising."

"We'll go home and soak our tootsies." Tara pulled off her bandana and shook out her hair. "Speaking of going home- who wants to?"

"Wait! We have to clean and restock and set the new display up and-"

"No." Giles snatched the money from Anya's hands, shoved it in the drawer, and forced her away from the register. "It's eight. We're leaving."

"Charlie Brown is on at eight thirty, hurry!" Dawn dragged herself to the front window and lowered the grated metal security shade. "We've probably missed most of the little bitty trick or treaters, I don't want to miss all of them!"

"I'll tally, you lock up." Giles handed Anya the keys. "Then we'll head out the back. Does anyone need a lift anywhere?"

"Nope." Buffy and Spike emerged from the basement, Buffy looking fairly mussed and Spike looking as slick and unruffled as usual. "Are we good to head home?"

"We're free at last!" Xander sighed heavily, and ignored Anya's pout.

"Right then. See you in a few, Slayer."

"Oh - are we going on the bike?"

"Was planning on it."

"So no skirts?"

"Prolly better not, yeah." Spike nodded after he thought for a moment.

"It's okay, I have nice pants."

"You'll be the belle of the ball. Night all! Happy Halloween!" Spike waved once, and trotted out the back of the shop.

Xander was instantly revitalized, and Giles immediately slowed his frantic rush to exit the building. "Was that- are you two-?"

"I'm taking the night off and leaving the Hellmough for a few glorious hours." Buffy tweaked Xander's ruffled shirt and kissed Giles' smooth, lined temple as she passed him. "I get dibs on the shower when we get home. Seriously, Anya, you need a dust buster in the basement, unless you're planning to sell the cobwebs." Buffy headed to the exit as well.

"Oh. That's a thought, Tara do you know of any spells needing cobwebs?" Anya turned to the blonde witch, but her reply was cut off by Giles.

"Did you know about this?" Giles demanded to the room at large as the door shut behind Buffy.

"Giles..." Willow shook her head.

"I'm merely concerned!"

"About what? Her safety?"

"Partially, yes." He coughed, herding the younger members of the company before him.

"Oh, then you can relax." Anya hugged the zipper pouch of cash to her bust with a sigh before locking it in the safe. "Spike would die for her. She's safe."

* * *

"Is this thing safe?" Buffy, in figure hugging black pants and ankle boots topped off with a clinging red sweater, anxiously sat astride Spike's motorcycle.

"Safe enough for a fifteen minute ride." He said. "Here. Helmet."

"But my hair!"

"Helmet."

"Seriously, even a hat-"

"Wear it or I'm not going to give you the bag of peanut butter cups I have for you."

"Damn you and your knowledge of my weaknesses." Buffy sighed dramatically. Nonetheless, she let Spike slip the new black helmet over her head. "Do I sound like Darth Vader now?" She asked once the visor was shut.

"No, just a muffled version of yourself." He sat in front of her and revved the engine to life.

"Where are we- oh God!" Buffy almost fell off the back, and then convulsively clutched Spike.

"I love this bike!" He crowed and roared off down the street.

* * *

The bike pulled into a small parking lot on a bustling town street full of restaurants, cafes, and clubs. "Wow. Normal life. Who knew?" Buffy shakily rose off the seat.

"It exists all around us." Spike lit up and then offered her his arm. "Heard good things about this place." He nodded his chin in the direction of the two story club and restaurant across the street.

"The Whole Note." Buffy cocked her eyebrow. "Jazz club?"

"Jazzy, but not just jazz. They have a dance floor, it's low key but not dreary, and they apparently make a nice rare steak." He winked and smiled as her hand rested in the crook of his elbow.

"I don't usually go to places like this."

"I know. Me either."

They crossed the street in silence. Buffy looked up at the brick building with neon blue lights across the roof. Hm. Doing what she didn't usually do, in her case, was very freeing. She didn't have to worry about any vampires, except of course, the handsome one holding the door for her.

"Proper restaurant is upstairs, club's down here. Hungry?"

She shrugged. Her stomach was curiously full- of excited butterflies, leaving very little room for food itself. "I could go for cheese fries." She said as a waitress with a loaded tray full of beers and bar snacks passed them.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

_So this is what it's like to have a good time with a guy._ Buffy smiled and leaned back at their hightop table. They must've been here for an hour, and it seemed like five minutes. They were on their third basket of loaded cheese fries and the nervous wriggling in her stomach had gone away. Probably no room for it, Buffy mused, laughing, too full of fries and root beer.

They talked about everything and nothing. Dawn, her mom, his mom, the idea of making his crypt more "modern", bridesmaids' dresses, construction work, and learning how to drive. Her mood fluctuated sometimes, some things were enjoyable and then a sudden flash of memory would assail her and she'd be fighting down old pains and new bitternesses. Spike never seemed to mind, or even notice.

Only she knew he noticed, because he changed the subject, changed his tone, but didn't press her to talk._ I love that about him. I don't have to force myself to fit into this mold they already forced me into. I feel... free._ Being on earth had made her feel so trapped, helpless, angry..._I guess that's expected. Leave heaven and perfect peace and safety and come back to financial disasters and demons that need to be killed and a nine to five job. A dead mom, an absent father, broken hearts and bad romances, and a little sister who needs you so much that you can hardly find what you need for yourself... Come back to one guy who you can trust enough to tell, and who is doing everything from making fried chicken to rebuilding my plumbing to try to make me okay again._

"Spike." She put down her napkin with a sigh. "I'm having a great night."

Spike beamed. "Me, too." He looked at their empty glasses and near empty baskets. "Runnin' low, Luv. You want another round?"

"Nope." Buffy patted her stomach and winced. "Very nope." They laughed. "Aren't you hungry? Like- for your red stuff?"

"I grabbed a pint at Willy's when I checked in." Spike reassured. "Well... we can go, I guess. This isn't really the jumpin' joint for dancing, is it?"

Buffy looked out at the small stage. The trio of piano, guitar, and vocalist had been singing covers ranging from _Monster Mash_ to _Thriller_ in honor of Halloween between moody jazz hits and old songs she didn't even recognize. "It's not the Bronze, I'll give you that." Spike gave her a stiff smile.

"Yeah, well." He picked up his empty glass and sloshed the ice around. _That's sort of what I was going for. But maybe she misses all that. This is a grown up club, and that was a party for teens and wannabe teens. Me an' her, we're the youngest and the oldest people I've ever met. Alright, an' Bit, but that's different. Maybe this wasn't the right place._ Sunnydale's club was fueled by dark energy, lust, and hormones, bad music, or good music, it didn't matter. It was a way for bodies to connect around the floor. _That place was a bloody meat market, all that sweat and almost-sex calling every vamp for miles around._ _I thought she might like a chance to be away from that._

He was right. Buffy slid out of her chair. "The Bronze sucks." She smiled saucily.

"There's other clubs in this town. We can stroll up the strip an' check 'em out."

"I like this one. You're here." She watched him join her in slow motion, something panther-like and prowling in that easy gait, but something careful in his eyes, the way his shoulders moved under a black button down shirt with a black tee underneath. _Shadow. My shadow._

"I don't really like dancing anymore." Buffy murmured as his hands found hers.

"Then lets not dance." He whispered against her ear, her body already starting to press to his.

"I want to learn to like it again. With you. Learning to like everything again. With you." She bumped awkwardly against him, flushing as they made their way onto the dance floor ringed with couples, but not packed like her usual scene. "Although I just realized I don't know how to dance in a - a nice place. I mean aside from proms and- I really, _really_ don't want to think about proms." She shut her eyes painfully.

"See, Luv, that's the good thing about bein' out of town, an' being alone." Spike swayed them into an empty space and snugged her up against him. "Your friends aren't here. You act how you want, you dance how you want, you be who you want. No expectations here. Just smile and have a good time."

"I always have a good time with you these days."

The female vocalist of the trio rose. The light danced in her blue sequined dress as she caressed her microphone and turned her bright red lips into a smile at the small crowd. With an inclination of her head, the guitar started to throb, single notes at a time, right before her voice followed in an almost purr._  
_

"_Mmmmm_

_Who's that I see walkin' in these woods? _

_Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood. _

_Hey there Little Red Riding Hood, _

_You sure are looking good. _

_You're everything a big bad wolf could want."_

Buffy looked into Spike's eyes, watched them gleam. "I can't dance to this." She blushed.

"Why?" He let his head drop, inch closer, pale lips forming invitations with every word. "Don't you like the song?"

Something was waking back up. Not happy. Not unhappy. Something else. "I just don't know the moves."

"_Little Red Riding Hood _

_I don't think little big girls should _

_Go walking in these spooky old woods alone. _

_Mmmm."_

"I think you know every move. I think maybe you worry about makin' 'em. Like it'll change something." Spike swallowed down his lust.

"Change can be good." She conceded in a catching voice.

"But I don't want to change. Not to the point where we lose what we have." His hands came up one one either side of her delicate face, so hot to the touch, and felt her own fine boned fingers gripping his waist.

"_What big eyes you have, _

_The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad. _

_So just to see that you don't get chased _

_I think I ought to walk with you for a-ways."_

"I don't want to change this, Luv. You're savin' me. I'm savin' you. Every night, little by little-" he swallowed, falling into questioning, almost pleading eyes, "we get a second chance."

_You hate this second chance. But you don't hate _him_. You -_ Buffy had to silence that thought. The only way she could. Her toes arched, and sprung her forward, kissing him.

"_What full lips you have. _

_They're sure to lure someone bad. _

_So until you get to grandma's place _

_I think you ought to walk with me and be safe."_

This was close to heaven. There was silence in her head for a minute, a full minute, nothing, not even the sultry vocals and the bass notes pulsing around her could penetrate the haze. She kissed him and she remembered things. Good things.

"_- That I can be trusted walking with you alone._

_Mmmm." _

She blinked as the world came back online. "It's okay. I'm okay." She breathed when he moved his mouth away, about to ask, she could sense it. She didn't give him the chance.

Spike didn't know how they were doing this, moving around the floor, lip locked, and not hitting anyone.

"_Little Red Riding Hood _

_I'd like to hold you if I could _

_But you might think I'm a big bad wolf so I won't. _

_Mmmmmm."_

"I didn't want you to think I brought you here for this to happen." Spike wrenched himself away. They'd made their way into a corner.

"Don't you think I get that? I trust you. I'm the one who said I wanted to play the game. Back at your crypt. Remember?"

"Difference between remembering and screwin' up." He smiled helplessly.

"_What a big heart I have-the better to love you with. _

_Little Red Riding Hood _

_Even bad wolves can be good. _

_I'll try to be satisfied just to walk close by your side. _

_Maybe you'll see things my way before we get to grandma's place."_

"You're the only one who hasn't screwed up. How's that for a second chance?" Buffy kissed him again and then plowed on. "You said no expectations. You said no worries about my friends. You're my friend. You're forgiven. Do you get that, Spike?" They pivoted, working their way back across the floor now, back to their table and the bar counter.

"I get that. I get that it might always be just that and I'm happy with it. If you're happy with it." _Honest to God. I am. I will be. She's alive. Never forget that, William, that she is alive and to ask for anything more than for her to share the same world with you would be greedy. _

_ However, if she asks for more..._

"I'm happy you're my friend. I'm happy around you. The more around you I am, the happier I am." She licked her lips, fright taking over.

He could feel it. He steered her back against the wall behind their table, pressing her there. "I'll keep making you that way. I can be- what you need me to be. An' you just have to be you."

"Spike, you just have to be you, too! I love - the way you are with me." Her heart suddenly went into triple time, her knees sagged- but he caught her. Always. _Always catches me._

His jaw locked, popped, and that silly, innocent smile broke free. "Really?"

"Yeah." She ran her hand along his flexed jawline.

He could weep. He could fall to his knees to worship. Or he could haul her to the bar, gathering all their things up in one arm, and her in the other, and loudly demand, "Name your poison, Luv." That was the option he chose.

Laughingly Buffy looked around and asked, "Huh?"

"I'm at the point where I don't even have words to tell you how happy what you said makes me. So - name your poison. Winner takes the drink."

"Then get yourself a beer." Buffy smiled at him with something naughty in her gaze.

Oh God he loved that gaze. He'd never seen it before, and it was now one of his absolute favorites. _Oh hell, who'm I kidding, all her looks are my favorite, they're hers! _"What do you want then?" He gestured to the slates above the bar.

"I want... I want to go play a tie breaker round. At your place? If you want?"

"_Little Red Riding Hood _

_You sure are looking good _

_You're everything that a big bad wolf could want." _

"Yes. I want. Of course I want, I bloody well_ love_." His exuberance slowed, confused, unsure what was hidden in the piles of glances and touches, and fears and hopes. "I _love_." He said more quietly, more seriously. "If you-?"

She put her arm through his. "Me, too."

* * *

_To be concluded._

_Author's Note: This story is going to have its rating raised to M for reasons of the final chapter. _


	12. Chapter 12

**Rules Reset **

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Sequel to _I Like to Win_. Please read that first. Skipping around through season six. Buffy's life ended before she and Spike had a chance to try out a second game Spike proposed, inspired by the drinking game of "Drowning the Sorrows". He never thought he'd have chance to prove how much he loved her, or show he could be her champion when it came to making her happy. Now Buffy's back and the game continues, offering Spike a chance to show that he can not only bring her happiness, but possibly bring her back to life._

_Author's Note: Smut warning! Mushy. Very mushy, but come on, you can't blame them._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Alexiarrose, cavementftw, Jewel74, Illusera, Omslagspapper, Mike13z50,Teddybear-514, Rosalea12, rororogers, Touch The Dark, Lyzzybelle, SushiBar, and Maire Ailbhe._

_Direct Quotes are obviously not mine, but belong to the fabulously talented and creative people who wrote them. In this case, some of season six's dialogue will be used._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine. **_

**Part XII**

"Here we go then, one bottle, one glass. Want me to turn on the telly? Probably some cheesy creature feature on that we'd find laughable."

"No, I'm good." Buffy laughed and shivered.

"You cold?"

"Riding at seventy miles an hour late at night on the back of a motorcycle gives me my first true understanding of "wind burn". Buffy rubbed her hands together and blew on them.

"Not exactly warm an' cozy in here." Spike said apologetically. "C'mere. Let me see if I can warm you up." _Oh, like she's going to buy that, you have no body heat, you have-_

"Okay." Buffy slid easily into his arms and huddled in.

_Well I'll be damned._ Spike wrapped his arms tightly around her and rubbed her back in hard circles, hoping to get friction-induced heat to build.

Buffy sighed. He wasn't any warmer than she was, but being pressed to his chest, made her blood rush, and that had the desired effect. "Next time I wear gloves. And a heavier coat."

_There's a next time._ Spike kissed the top of her hair, inhaling the scent of chill winds layered over her natural aroma. "We could always borrow the Jeep."

"Maybe." Buffy looked up at him and smiled. He bent and kissed her with a smile of his own.

He could just ravish her right now. No, he absolutely could not. Wants and his old nature complained loudly about the new rules he imposed on himself, on making moves, on taking things at a different pace. _C'mon on now, William. Gotta admit slow and steady seems to be winnin' this race- and oddly enough, a damn sight quicker than all the fast action you tried before._ He lingered against her lips a bit longer and then pulled off with a final rub of her spine. "Here we go, Slayer." He gestured to the battered armchair they had been leaning against. "Have a seat?"

"Where will you sit?" Buffy hadn't wanted the kiss to end. But on the other hand, she wasn't sure what happened if they kept going past it. She sat and hugged her knees.

"On the floor. Soon's I get some light in here." He flicked his lighter open with a tiny flare and hiss, then lit the candles he had scattered around the television and the little cubby hole where his mini fridge was.

Buffy watched him move. Spike could feel her eyes on him, and it made him struggle for control. _Beautiful woman, woman I love, in my chair. Whiskey. Candles. My place._ He needed a smoke, but he knew nicotine would only mask deeper cravings. "There's a little light on the subject." He eased himself down before her and poured the first shot with a steady hand. "Alright, Slayer. You suggested the tie breaker round. How do you want to play this?"

"Um." Buffy twisted her hands in a sudden spasm. "I don't know. I don't know what it is about me, exactly, that seems to make you so happy. I just know what you do makes me- I just know how you make me feel. I guess," she swallowed, "I'm taking my turns on your behalf."

_My girl. My girl is playing for me._ "See, that right there," Spike began hoarsely "Is what you do. You go above and beyond what anyone imagines you'll do."

"And you don't?" Buffy laughed softly, letting herself relax. "You fixed my mortgage. No one ever thinks of things like that, or maybe they do, but they say 'I wish I could help', and you _actually_ help."

"You help me all the time. I fixed a house. You fixed a man." The hoarseness was getting to the choking point, and he was cursing. _How the hell did the "happy game" end up as emotional as the soddin' "sad game"?_ "Don't think you were trying. It just happened. I was one way- I was around you," he smiled up at her before looking back at the small glass of amber liquid, glowing in candlelight, "an' then I was a different person inside." His fingers touched the glass. "To Buffy." He inched it towards her. "Who can make a person new inside, without even trying."

Buffy was moved. And she was scared to feel moved like this, a new feeling, nothing she'd ever felt before. She vaguely realized, as her brain swam, that she hadn't had the best and most communicative relationships. A guy telling you what you mean to him, how he sees you, what he thinks of you- well that came with heartbreak and eleventh hour crises. But with Spike, at least this "new" Spike, it came with dinner, dancing, and drinking games. "I don't think so." The young woman whispered. "You say I do it without trying, but you _do_ try. You try your ass off. That's way more effort. Mine was an accident, yours was on purpose. You worked for this harder. Champ." She stopped the glass' advance with the toe of her boot.

_If she makes me cry- well, that'd just be me all over, wouldn't it? The little bespectacled sod I was anyway. Why the hell does whatever's in my heart try an' work its way out my tear ducts? _ Spike harrumphed once and then twisted his blue eyes and ice white face into a stern yet snarky expression. "Ah ah ah. Much as I appreciate it, this game isn't about who does the grunt work. This is about how happy you make the other person. Accidentally or not, you've changed my whole bloody world, Luv. Literally feel like a new man, a different person since I met you- an' since I lost you and found you again." Spike looked up at her, sitting at her feet. He found it oddly appropriate.

Slayer, apparently, did not. She pushed the chair back and scooted off it, glaring at him. "You rebuilt me. You had- good things in you. I came back with-" she winced and closed her eyes, head turning slightly in pain, "nothing in me."

"That's not true! You were better than ever for tryin' to soldier on in pain like that." His glare was fierce, his voice growing loud.

"That much pain, that you managed to make _stop_ growing, then helped me to let it go, then erase it, until finally I have the opposite! I'm _happy_, I'm glad to be back, I'm not worried about surviving. Okay, maybe a little, but if I have you around-"

"Which you do." He inserted emphatically.

"-then I don't worry too much. Because I have a guy who never stops trying to save me." She swallowed, "Even when I don't see a way to save myself."

Spike seized the glass and gulped it.

"You agree?" Buffy asked, surprised at his abruptness.

"Nope, needed a steadier." He unscrewed the cap and poured a second shot. "You were makin' me light headed, what with my ego tryin' to lift me off the floor, needed a jolt to shoot me back on solid ground." He wiped his stinging lips and locked eyes with her. "Everything you said is true, Luv, but how do you think that makes me feel? Yeah? The woman I'm-" he stumbled over what he wanted to call her, and tried again. "You want me there, you treat me like I'm a hero, and you forgive me, an' you treat me like a friend,-"

"You are all those things to me." She interjected quietly but firmly.

"My point exactly. You can't imagine how that makes me feel. 'Specially when I thought I'd lost the chance, an' look at how buggered up things were before-" He shook his head. "I'm well past happy. Because of you."

Buffy was flattered and touched. But not giving in. "I'm a different kind of happy, one I never had before." She squinted. "I know perfect bliss, I know what heavenly feels like. This isn't like that. It hurts in places and there's worry and stuff. But it's," she licked her lips, searching for the words, "it's not something I'd trade for heaven. But it's the closest thing I've felt to it. It's more real, more raw, but it's kinda heavenly."

_I make her feel like that. _Something changed inside him again. Something small and golden seemed to be born inside his chest, and it had wings, it could fly, and it lifted him to new heights. But she couldn't see that.

Spike massaged this glowing ache inside, hand over his heart, a grimace on his face. "You don't see this, you can't know this. You can't imagine what you do to me, Buffy." His hand left his chest and took her fingers, leaning forward urgently, like if he said this fast enough and harshly enough, she'd believe him. "I don't think we're goin' about this the right way, lovely as it is, because happiness can't be defined, you can't say you're happier than me, because you don't know what I'm feeling, and I can't describe it!"

"Same here!" She was just as passionate, just as intense. "You can't see how much it hurt, you can't see how much it doesn't hurt now!"

Before things could devolve into an argument, an argument over something so sweet and so joyous, they seemed to wake up. Maybe it was the fact they were nose to nose at this point. "You're right." He conceded softly, deliberately. "This isn't the way to play, and this isn't how I imagined it goin', not back when I first had the idea." He shook his head as his hand softly made its way up to her neck, cupping it, letting her head lean into his palm. "This never really was a game to me, Slayer. Least, not one you can win over a bottle of the best."

"Hard to do." She murmured, letting her cheek nestle into the strong hand.

"I did want to make you the happiest. That'd be the best thing I've ever done, all the victory you can ask for."

"I know. And I honestly don't think I'm very good at making you happy. If you didn't love me so much already, I don't think I'd have even been able to try."

Spike's eyes widened and then hastily returned to normal. _The first time she ever admitted it. Without arguing, belittling, refusing... _The glow inside turned up another notch, and it almost burnt him with its sudden sun-like flare.

Buffy seemed to belatedly realize what she'd said, and her stomach turned to ice. _L-word. Him to me, not me to him. I'm still safe. _

"Don't sell yourself short, Luv. I think you'd have done fine, either way." Spike knew she was panicking and he diffused it as best he could, saying something simple, nothing fancy, nothing with any pressure.

_Oh my God. Don't you get it? You're safe! You're safe no matter what, because it's _him_. You can. You can do this, try this again, and he'll keep you safe. You'll save each other. You'll make each other happy._ "I hope so." Buffy said in reply as her mind whizzed along. "We can't put it in words, huh?"

"And for the two of us, that's sayin' a lot. Or not, I guess." Spike blinked as his clever remark suddenly seemed to lose some of its pithiness.

"So... here's to you." She handed him the glass again. "I don't really drink."

"Ah- thought of that." Spike stood up, reluctant to leave her, but proud of himself. He trotted to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of ice tea. "Picked it up with the chocolate last night."

Buffy grinned and scrambled up, bringing the glass to him. "See! Look at that, more happys!"

Spike giggled, had to, at her eager, bouncing voice. "It's the little things," they traded beverages and he clinked his shot to her plastic cap, "that mean so much."

"They absolutely do." They sipped, stepped in, and smiled, practically chest to chest. "Spike?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe if it's hard to say... it's easier to show instead?" Buffy felt light headed, dizzied by her own thoughts, and where she envisioned them leading.

"Maybe." Spike gently took the bottle from her hand and emptied his own. Both hands free, he pulled her shoulders softly to him so he could kiss her.

Boy, did she kiss him back. Hands in his hair, a small, talented tongue pushing hungrily between his lips, and making him instantly and wonderfully "uncomfortable" in the trousers. "Oh?" Spike gasped a little when Buffy reared away, out of breath.

"Yeah." Buffy nodded.

"This is a brilliant way to communicate." He chuckled darkly and caught her again. This time his tongue was the aggressor, plundering, pushing, arms around her, catching her as she went limp.

What started as a playful challenge turned more serious when he let her come up for air this time. He loosened his grip- and she held on tight, shaking her head.

"Don't stop." She whispered softly.

Fireworks detonated in his mind's eye, though they were quickly silenced. "_Don't stop" doesn't mean go into new territory necessarily. It just means "don't stop"._ So he didn't. He nodded and let her cling to him, curl to him, kissing again, slow, and deep, and thorough.

They lost their balance, her first, dizzied by all the emotion in her head and running low on oxygen. She collapsed in the chair, bringing him with her, although he didn't land on top of her, he landed on his knees, arms still around her. It was only a matter of time before she had to scoot down to the floor as well. She couldn't stand to lean forward, she wanted, _needed _him against her.

Spike was dizzy himself by now, from lust and inhaling her, from her body always seeking his. He let out a little growl and pulled her forward hard. "Sorry." He whispered. "Not carried away. Wanted you closer." He murmured apologetically, when her mouth came away with a startled pop.

"Closer?"

"Well, yeah. Closer." He kissed her cheek, jowl, and neck softly, easing up. No pressure.

"I like closer." Her hand ran lightly over his lean chest, pressing in over the hard ridges of muscle. The second hand joined in. His hands copied, only instead of muscle he felt a rib cage that needed a bit more padding to be healthy again, a yielding side under either hand, and breasts that heaved suddenly when his hands rested high up, under her arms, thumbs just touching the outline of her bra cups. "Too close?"

"No." She mouthed, sound temporarily gone.

He was surprised. He was mildly worried, too. Her heartbeat was so quick, and she'd lost her voice. Could be very bad or very good, could be a snap in either direction, and he wasn't sure which. "Buffy, you know I don't- well, you know, I-" Damn, this was not a speech he'd ever had. _Ever_. Not in a hundred plus years had he been in a situation like this. "I'd never push things. Or hurt - or hurt things. Anymore. Like I did. Sorry." _Damn. Very smooth._

Well, the girl seemed to think so. Her eyes went from nervously wide to half-lidded and her kisses were sweet, hands roaming his back. "I know what you mean.

Already forgave you, too. For everything."

He wanted to relax more, spread out a bit instead of balancing on their knees on the hard stone floor, lie back with her like that one night under the hedges. But if he mentioned going downstairs or to his bed, he was worried she'd think he was pushing harder and faster, in spite of what they'd just said. Frankly, he didn't care if they never stopped circling the airport. Girl was warm, soft, supple, tasted amazing, and gave one hell of a back rub. "Oooh." He shivered as her eager little fingers dug in to his sculpted back. "Ooooohhh." He relaxed, like a cat arching its spine- and toppled sideways.

"Ow. Oops." Buffy toppled with him. The television and its surrounding candles rocked, the whiskey bottle tipped and rolled clinking and sloshing away. "That could have been messy and fiery." Buffy and Spike sat back up, awkwardly brushing each other off.

"Sorry."

"My fault. I have talented hands, I guess." She smiled self-consciously.

"You do." He kissed her fingertips, and looked into her eyes. Forgiving eyes. Trusting eyes. _She trusts me._ He could hear her voice, watch the moment in his head, the first time she told him that as she was pulling him back on top of her for a kiss, that night, lying in the grass. _Here we go._ "Buffy, would you like to go downstairs? Softer than the floor." _She trusts me. She trusts me._

"Okay." She rose with him shakily. _He won't hurt me._ She wasn't speaking of her body. That was used to pain, and healed fast. She was speaking of her heart. She couldn't remember the last time that hadn't hurt._ That's why I don't want to be forced to remember. I want fresh memories...for a fresh life. _"I'd like that."

* * *

He went first, with a lit candle to light the rest of the candles downstairs. Everything she'd seen before was gone, after that terrible night he'd brought her down there... Well, that was literally a lifetime ago. No chains to try to bind her, no shrine to her in his obsession.

She wouldn't know it, but there were only a few things he prized, reminders of her, in the was a box under the bed, with one sweater of hers, and a photo of her and Dawn. Those weren't from before, those were from Dawn- from after. When she realized that he had nothing left of hers, nothing to hold on to, like the rest of the ones who loved her. The gifts from Dawn were things he could never part with- but had never looked at after the first night Dawn gave them to him.

Now Buffy was back, and with him, willingly, taking his hands as she climbed down the ladder. He was gratified to see her eyes never left his face, she didn't survey the surroundings like a warrior checking out enemy territory. _She trusts me. I think maybe she feels more than that too. _

"You see okay?" He asked softly. She nodded. "You can take your shoes off if you want. Though the floor's cold an' a bit gritty, so you might not-" She was already unzipping her chic black ankle boots. "Right." She nodded again, and sat.

_Oh bloody buggerIng hell. Try so hard not to push her. Ask the stupid questions, nag, pry, etc, etc. But... _"Slayer. Buffy, I wanted to-"

"Spike?" Buffy interrupted him.

"What, Luv?"

"Promise this turns out as happy as everything else you do for me?"

Instantly galvanized, he sat beside her on the bed and took both her hands. "Of course! This is just- this is just us showing how we feel. What could be unhappy about that? What with how I feel about you." He ginned reassuringly, pressing her hands tightly in his own.

"How I feel about you, too." Her eyes danced slowly in the candlelight. Serious.

"I only want to make you happy. I'll never do anything but that." He swore.

"I like making you feel that way, you know. I'm just worried I'll mess up."

"I'm worried too. About me, not you. You know me. I'm excellent at making what could be good go very badly."

"No... you're excellent at taking what's very bad and making it all better." She smiled and rested her head on his chest for a second.

"This is already so good, so... whatever we do tonight should be phenomenal." He teased.

"Not sure what I want to do." She finally tried to warn him, eyes a little apprehensive, almost guilty.

"Then we'll just relax and have a good time." He put his arm around her. "You tired? You could take a nap, this bed's like marshmallow, best mattress ever."

She laughed. "I do know I don't want to sleep. Not yet." She pecked his lips and lay back. He followed.

* * *

Everything seemed to build very slowly. Kisses and the little touches became longer kisses and more probing touches. Some on accident.

Buffy gasped. His hand hit a hard nipple as he reached across her. He murmured an apology in her ear. Her thighs squeezed together as she felt a sudden burning ache inside her middle.

"Hurts?" He felt the twitch, not sure what kind it was.

"Just aches.' She echoed words from earlier in the week.

"Here, Luv, I can take your mind off it." He snickered and massaged her lower back, rolling more on top of her. It was his turn to spasm. His hardness grated between them, and the crease of his jeans painfully pressed it.

She could feel it. "Hurts?" She asked in a breathless voice.

"Not bad."

Mouths met again, ending any conversation. Buffy tried, vaguely tried to remember how things were supposed to progress, was there an order, what was too much- and nothing would come to her. She was slipping away in some sort of haze, relaxing more and more inside herself, or more and more with him.

Or maybe she'd never felt like this before. Not rushed, no danger of losing him like there had been the night she'd chosen to sleep with Angel, take things to the next step because she loved him and she had to show him before he went away on some dangerous mission. No pressure to try to get over someone like the night she'd slept with Parker, or to try and move on with her life when she'd begun her relationship with Riley.

_I want this, because I _want _this. No. Because I want _him._ I want to be with him, feel safe with him, happy with him. I love this. Love... Love him._

Spike could tell something changed. The suppleness in her spine changed, her shoulders stiffened. He began to sit up, only to find every centimeter he pulled back, she moved with him, like she was glued. Hungry kisses that locked his lips between hers, hands clutching in his hair, her breathe heating the insides of a mouth that was airless- every gesture was connecting them.

"I'm right here." He managed to murmur, before lying back down.

"So am I. Here. Glad to be here. With you." Buffy's hand left the nape of his neck and slid down between his shoulder blades, her arm taking his over shirt with it.

That could be an accident, Spike silently rationalized. Then she purposefully tugged his arm through the sleeve. The fireworks were back inside his head again.

Buffy watched his eyes open, glow, then lids fell again. Her own eyes closed, and she felt things begin to happen. All the hard edges, and the brightness and harshness of the world washed away, letting herself feel safe and warm. Lukewarm hands on her skin now, under her sweater, at the back, caressing, gentle hands, slow hands.

_Time has no meaning in here. _

_ It's still going to happen. There's still bliss._

Uncertainty left her and she raised her shoulders off the bed and pulled the front of her shirt free between them, unspoken invitation for him to roll the garment off of her.

Spike obeyed, skillful fingers almost clumsy in their effort to make everything slow and careful, no sudden pushes, sudden demands. While he was above her, watching her shake out her mane of hair after being tugged about in her shirt, he rolled off his own black tee as well.

_Oh God. He's gorgeous._

_ She's beautiful._

They made a clinging cocoon, equal parts craving each other's touch and wanting to protect each other. He thought she was taking a risk for his sake. She thought he needed her close, like she desired him.

"Need you."

"Oh, Luv. Need you too." He leaned over her briefly and blew out a few of the candles closest to the head of the bed so things were dimmer, more romantic. "Better?"

"Cozy."

"Nice and snug."

"Well- I can feel that." She laughed softly, aware of the hard packed pouch against her. His own throaty laugh, just one laugh, escaped as well.

"I don't mind. All I need to do is have you next to me and everything is amazin'."

"Yeah. It is."

* * *

There're moments when everything seems to be speeding along, but moving slowly. That's what Buffy felt. For Spike, it was only slow. It was sweet, long-awaited agony. "Can I show you?"

She didn't wonder what he meant, she knew. Show her how happy he was, happy because of her. That's how this whole activity began, two people unable to tell, trying to show. She nodded, cheek to his cheek so he could feel her silent agreement.

He didn't ask for any other permission. She trusted him and he'd please her. If she wanted something different, she'd be comfortable enough to tell him, because that was how they'd been since she'd come back. Since before, only never as real friends. Never as lovers.

_Lovers._ Spike inhaled, closed his eyes, and started living out the good dreams, the fantasies he had hugged and hidden away.

Buffy gasped, silent, pleasure-filled. A mouth, a few shades cooler than hers, started at her lips with a starving, deep-drinking kiss that left her breathless, and then moved down across her throat, over her shoulders. Teeth dragged bra straps down, hands lifted breasts up, until they overflowed the cups and a head was laid against her bare skin.

"Your heartbeat... sweetest sound to me." He mumbled, nuzzling in to her satiny globes, eyes closed, sighing.

"Thank you." She couldn't hear like he could, but there were sounds of his that she loved, that she'd come to associate with the pain inside her mind lessening or ending altogether. "I like when your voice gets a little snarky. Not being a jerk, when you're joking with me. Or no, maybe my favorite is when you get all serious, and you speak soft and slow. I don't know. I can't pick. I just like your voice."

Spike was floored by that. "Really?" _Don't ask that, you idiot, you'll ruin the mood!_

"One of the things I love about you."

Mood safe and intact. Spike glowed. "I love everything about you. You did know that, right?" He began to leave gentle, nibbling kisses along her breasts, stopping to suck a nipple into his mouth and nurse in a purely sensual way, tongue stroking the teat, coaxing it higher and harder... only fair, as something of his was beyond hard and high and had been for quite some time.

"I figured it out." Buffy gasped, spine curving to allow more of her sensitive skin to feed into him. "It's why I'm here. Why I love you."

Spike's mouth popped free and he reared up, the mood completely shattered and who the bloody fuck could blame him? "Did you say it? God, please tell me you said it?" He picked her up by the shoulders, eyes blinking rapidly.

"I'm not good at this part." Buffy suddenly sounded hoarse, their heads colliding, heartbeat racing.

"I don't care, neither am I, you know I'm not. You never have to say it again, only- tell me if I dreamed it?"

"No... I said it. I meant it. I don't know what else to say. It doesn't feel like it did- before." Buffy dipped her head, unable to look at eyes that were spotlights on her, eyes that threatened to overflow in happiness. "I just know... I feel it." She shrugged. "It's harder to say, to feel..."

"I love you, Buffy. Never, ever stopped. Never, ever _will _stop." His jaw was set, and he bundled her up determinedly. "I didn't mean to get all loud an' pushy just then, got carried away. Nothing changes, okay? I've been lovin' you this whole time, an' how you feel... as long as you're happy an' you're happy with me, I think-"

"I wasn't taking it back." Buffy's own jaw tightened, then spasmed helplessly. "I just said it was harder to say and feel after everything I've been through. But I still feel it, and say it. And it's real. I know what's real here. What I feel for you, that's real. And it's love." Her voice faded away, but was still sincere.

He laughed joyously, ringing, make her laugh as well, a surprised exclamation. "It's been so hard for me not to say it. D'you mind if I do?"

"No. No, go right ahead." She was swept up in him, literally and figuratively, as he laid on his back now, holding her above him, looking up adoringly.

"Love you. Love you lots, Slayer, love you jus' like you are and don't you ever change. 'Less you want to. An' I'll still love you if you do, no matter what." The exuberance died away and his eyes were soft and serious. "Always love you."

She wished she could make those big statements, big sweeping statements, but everything felt new and raw, even as safe and secure as she was with him. _That's okay. He knows that. And he loves me anyway. Like real love should be._ Buffy smile languidly, and pushed his arms to the side, making herself fall to the side, pressed against him instead of above him. "Wanna show me some more?"

"Can I show you as much as I want?" He asked, looking at her intently.

She almost asked him to clarify how much he wanted, but stopped herself. _Let go._ With him was the one place the rest of life could drop away- and still know someone would be waiting to catch her if she dropped away with it. "Can I show you, too?"

The little golden glow birthed inside him went to full sunlight proportions, and he felt like he was burning from the inside out. It hurt, but in a good way, like bones breaking, but back into the right place. He could "breathe" again. "Can't wait."

* * *

"Can't wait" was an oxymoron of a statement with those two. Even given permission of love, they still didn't want to rush.

"Gonna savor this." Spike chuckled.

"Mmm, that chuckle might be tied for my favorite favorite sound." Buffy giggled back, and enjoyed his mouth working all over her torso, breasts to belly, with that artful tongue latching onto her nipples and raising them to aching new stiffnesses.

Speaking of stiff things, unsure about this part though she was, Buffy reached down and let her hands start tracing along Spike's waistline. His hands mimicked hers, slowly, steadily. His hand moved hers to the top button of her slacks, the indicator. If she wanted to proceed, she'd undo it. With a shaking thumb, she pushed it through the eyelet, and waited for him to do more.

He did more, just not what she expected. He kept a hold of her hand, not her clothes. He held it until all the trembling stopped. _Because he doesn't want what he wants- that's so tangled in my head. But I get it. If this was still about him, he'd have done everything the old way, the bad way. This is about me._

Buffy pushed his hand away gently, saw the understanding in his eyes- right before the wave of surprise. _This isn't about me tonight. This is about us. _Her hand was steady as it gently eased his zipper down.

* * *

Pants gone, everything off both of them, Spike brushed kisses over her waist, then thighs, then trailed them towards the middle. With a blush and a gasp, Buffy lifted her head. "What are you-"

"Making you happy. An' me as well." He butted her firmly on her inner thigh with his head, a small stubborn push to make her legs part. She was holding her breath, and he didn't know why. "You're beautiful. Such a beautiful paradise. All for me to love."

"It's been a really long time, longer than you'd think since I-" Buffy stopped talking as he made a feathery kiss to her mound, then the sealed lips, and then one to where wetness clung and she began to open. "Ooh. Spike?" Her voice held a little note of trepidation.

"Shhh. This world's too harsh, too bright, too violent you said." He stroked his thumb lightly along her seam. "I'm gonna give you something sweet an' soft an' loving. Make you smile."

* * *

New memories were made. It hadn't been like this before, not that she could recollect right then, she just knew it felt different. Spike didn't seem to have a "goal" in mind, to make her scream or call his name or get ready for more. Spike merely seemed to want to taste and make love to every inch of her. First the outer lips, then the inner, then a sensitive aching nub that couldn't bear to be touched for more than a second. She let out a hoarse, desperate cry.

"Ooh, kitten, did I get you?" Spike apologetically sat up, hand to his blunted teeth.

"Sensitive." Buffy blushed. "But good."

"Pretty pearl." Spike bent back down and licked her softly, opening to trembling point, before rising up. "You want a break?"

"No... I wanted you to lie down." Buffy slowly rose to her knees.

Spike's eyebrows arched. "Okay..." He lay down, own chest doing a few unneeded falls as he watched her lick her lips. "Slayer, you don't have to-"

"Showing you what I want to show you. Just remember- been a very, _very_ long time since I did this." Buffy determinedly pushed her hair over one shoulder and bent down. _Holy cow, that's big. And not mouth sized. Well, not the whole thing, anyway. I don't think he cares if I do anything, he just wants me to have a good time. Well, I want him to have one too._

Spike's head came off the pillows in surprise as she wrapped her mouth neatly around him, bobbed down about halfway, and then pulled back up. What the hell is that?, he wanted to shout. No little kisses and nervous tastes, not this one. _Oh sweet Jesus, what is she doing, what does she mean "it's been awhile?" She's a bloody ringer._ "Luv?"

"Mm?" Buffy looked up guiltily.

"No, no! No sad eyes." Spike laughed. "I was just gonna say- I don't know what you think a man expects- an' I certainly don't have 'expectations', but -" He groaned as he involuntarily twitched in her mouth and she clamped down on him harder, like she was afraid he'd escape, "- bloody hell, you're amazing..."

Buffy closed her eyes in complacent acceptance of his compliment, and focused on what she could feel and taste. Hard, warm, not hot, rigid, veins popping up under her tongue. What she could hear and see- sinewy body about to spasm, little twitches of pleasure, little grunts of enjoyment. "Slayer..." A gasp of her name, said like it was the most beautiful name in the universe. She lifted her head and slid up him, like a streak of sun against a cold shadow.

"Spike." Her most beautiful word, not a usual choice, but associated with the most beautiful, steadfast friend a girl could ask for, the most devoted champion of her health and happiness- at least when given a second chance. _We're both on our second chances._ "I can do more, I just wanted to come up here. See you smile."

"Oh, Pet, beamin' so hard it'll be a week before my lips can do anything _but _smile. Or kiss your pretty mouth." He demonstrated, rolling to the side, wrapping one arm lazily around her.

This is it. My beautiful girl, in love with me, pressed against me, so close to me. Taste her on my lips, smell her scent, hear her breath quicken up or slow down as she gets relaxed or excited. And that heartbeat... "Gimme a second." Spike paused in their tangling. "Wanna just listen an' look." _In case this is a dream, an' I wake up._

"Okay... but you'll be seeing this a lot. I mean- if you want. Because I want."

"Oh, I want. I _love_." He repeated the words that seemed to prompt all this exploration.

Buffy swallowed through a suddenly tight throat. "Come here and love me, then."

* * *

_Hhhh... Hhh... Hhh..._ Her breathing, the only sound in the new silence.

_Urrm. _His grunt as she slid under him. _Ah-ahhhh._ Segmented gasp of air as her hand, so warm and tightly gripping, stroked him against her open thighs.

_Mmmnnnnn. _Choking, tight sound, breath caught as her eyes flew open, then squeezed shut. "Unn." Stretching, pulling, full... and then she could breathe again as the ache dissolved.

_Oh God._ Breathless rasp in the semi- darkness, inaudible. Spike's shoulders locked to support his head as it snapped back, his whole spinal column electrified as he sank inside her.

"Precious?"

"Tight." Buffy smiled up at his concerned face.

"Too tight?"

"Oh no. Just tight enough."

"Amen to that." He moved, nice and slow, a different type of dance than the one they'd shared a few hours ago. Just his hips in a circle, no thrusting yet. Not until she gave him the right sign.

She was going to go crazy if he just lay there, packed inside her, unmoving, making her walls do a hundred little pulses, but never relieve the deep twinges she felt when he was near her. Now that he was inside her, it was a million times worse. Buffy hadn't thought that was possible. With a frustrated noise leaking from under his skillful mouth, she pushed her hips up against him.

"Good?"

"Good. More?"

"Didn't want to push you." He murmured.

"You're the one who never pushes." She reminded him.

Spike preened. "You meant it, didn't you?"

"Meant what?" Although she knew already.

" 'Bout you. Me."

"Yeah. I meant that."

The preening stopped. "I never thought I'd hear you say it."

"Never thought I'd say it again. I was scared to. I told you that." Buffy ran her fingers through his hair, fluffing it out, making him look younger, not so hardbitten.

"Something must have changed."

"You." She said blithely, but then shook her head the next second. "Me, too. Everything, the way I look at the world, actually."

Spike stopped holding himself above her, tucking his hands along her neck as he moved experimentally inside of her. "Sorry this place is such a far cry from heaven, Baby."

Her eyes rolled back as he hit a deep spot inside her, a well of pleasure instantly unlocked. Seeing her reaction he moved again, insistently, harder and faster inside her.

"But I keep tryin' to make this place better for you." He wanted to close his eyes. Being in her was the most wonderful sensation he'd ever felt. A thousand times warmer and sweeter than he could ever have believed possible. Yet if he closed his eyes to focus on the sense of touch, he wouldn't see her thrashing slightly, head twisting, body writhing with his as she let go of the last pieces of fear and came home to him.

She couldn't form words, just nodded. Thoughts narrowed down to the familiar almost-awareness she'd experienced in heaven. In his arms, in this world with him, in this one night- she knew everything and everyone she loved was okay. She wasn't finished- but for the first time ever she had something that heaven hadn't shown her. She was _whole_. Completed without being done. Just as she was, in this earthly realm, as long as she was with him.

"I don't want heaven back." She whispered hoarsely, out of place, several moments later as they were careening to a climax. "If I can have us instead."

_What's she saying, she can't mean it, I'm nowhere near a consolation prize_. "No, Slayer, don't-"

"I can go back to heaven one day- but we only one chance to be together!" She sounded like she was on the verge of tears, frustrated and close to peaking, not wanting to have to explain.

"We're together, Luv, together, together. Always be together, little more every day, every night." That was all the energy he had left for words now, lifting her up under him, matching the pulse of her blood as it beat in the arteries around her slick tunnel, urging him to let loose, urging her to let it free. _That's all I wanted. To have her back, to have another chance, to play this game... I thought it was the second chance, didn't know second chances would lead to only chances. Gotta take 'em when you find 'em. _"Thought I lost you forever." He bit down on her shoulder as she dug her slim fingers hard into his back, her teeth gnashed closed as the blood rush consumed her.

"One more thing left to do- one more game left to play with my- partner." She panted out before the final spasm occurred. "Spike! Oh, Spike, there, yes, finally!"

"Finally!" He agreed as she pulled his essence right out of him, not only physically, heart-wise too. He poured everything he had down on her, buckling the mattress, and tearing the sheets where his fingers gripped the fabric up in his balled fists as they moaned and rode the pleasure as one.

* * *

"Oh. Ohhh. Oh, God, am I breathing? I think I'm- breathing, right?" Buffy panted as Spike crashed down on her, both of them utterly spent, still locked together in a fluid torrent.

"Yeah. I'm not. Good thing, or might've burst a lung." Spike panted as well, not sure how his mechanics worked, only knowing he was struggling to speak. She laughed as he eased out and off. His heart, already so swollen, began to split its seams as she immediately curled right to his side, head on his bicep. Her breathing slowed as he kissed her ear and smoothed the passion damp hair from her neck.

"Whoa. Good workout." Buffy laughed.

"Best ever." He nipped her shoulder softly. She nodded and sighed softly. "You- uh- you feelin' alright?"

"Mmm, heavenly." She said drowsily, and fluttered her eyes in confusion. Then shrugged._ Go with the feeling. Bliss, completion, warmth, safety...Love._ She was falling asleep already, though she ached to stay awake and marvel with him. However, weeks of worry, stress, and trying to adjust lost their final foothold in her mind and spirit as she felt his hands soothing her in the afterglow. Sleep crept over her. _Should tell him one more time._ "Love you."

"Love you, too." Spike smiled down on her. _Poor little thing. She ran a marathon in her own personal hell. Just crossed the finish line and she collapses. But I've got her. Got her safe, in my arms._ He tightened his hold on her. "Sleep, Baby. Wake you in a few, get you home before they worry." She nodded sleepily and kissed the forearm cradling her head, making him a laugh ripple silently inside his chest.

He was exhausted as well, he'd ran this race with her, for her. But he couldn't sleep now, he had to watch this miracle. _His _miracle, sleeping on him. Her heartbeat dropped another few notches, and her breathing deepened. Her muscles did one final twitch. "Shh. Got you."

Buffy nodded, no longer properly awake, drifting off. _Said I love you. One more thing, one more thing I was gonna tell him. Gonna tell Spike if we ever got the chance. _Her final coherent thought before passing into slumber emerged in a soft, dreamy voice. "You won."

He blinked hard, mainly to keep a stray tear from hitting her face, waking her back up. _We're gonna be okay. Look at my prize. Just look at her. Hear her._ He smiled as he lay his head to hers, hearing her heartbeat, feeling her breathe, watching a hazy smile drift across her face. _She gets me. I get _her.

"You're right, Luv. I won."

_The End_

_(A Happy One)_


End file.
